Holiday Spirit
by spinlight
Summary: A story about how the relationship of Sam and Freddie evolves over the course of a year at different holiday functions.
1. New Years Eve

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, I don't own anything.

**A/N: **Epilogue to _We've got all the time_ is in the works for anyone who cares but I'm putting it off because… well I can. This story will probably be around ten chapters, set over the course of year at different parties and functions for certain holidays. New Years to Valentine's Day to Saint Patrick's Day, etc etc.

Thanks to Vix for beta'ing (though the website might have done something weird to the format) and the awesome opinions and help.

//

**Holiday Spirit**

**Chapter One - New Years Eve**

He navigated the sea of bodies, shifting in and out through layers of conversation and areas of personal space. Under dim lighting and the low buzz of rock music, Freddie pushed his way into the kitchen with intent to make it over to the refreshments on the table near the corner without having one more person accidentally elbow him in the side and or face. It was a pretty sizeable goal but dreams aren't worth pursuing unless their big, otherwise they're just another possibility for the mundane to occur. He wasn't really sure in the moment but he had either heard that from a movie or his English teacher. Either way, he couldn't help but think it was pretty motivational then and now.

Getting to the table, he looked over all the choices offered before reaching for a can of soda. Popping back the tab, he just held it in hand and turned his gaze back onto the celebrating landscape. This was Luke Fender's party, thrown at Amy Colden's house whose parents were out of town and who just so happened to be madly in love with Luke to the point that the guy was able to talk her into anything including throwing this party and rumors of a questionable tattoo somewhere on her body that no one has proof exists but are all pretty sure does. Freddie got there maybe an hour or two ago with Carly and Sam and had managed to not lose them for oh, a good twenty minutes until Gibby got a hold of him and by the time he turned around they had abandoned him for greener pastures. Where said greener pastures were, he had no idea in hell because he had yet to catch a glimpse of either girl since then.

Freddie lifted the can of generic soda to his lips and took a drink, letting the carbonated substance burn a trail down his throat. It went down smoother than some of the other stuff on the table, that's for sure. It seems another thing Luke was able to talk Amy into was raiding her parent's liquor cabinet because there was a wide array of alcohol offered out to anyone willing to commit to a night of memory loss and a morning of throbbing headaches. He wasn't sad that he wouldn't be joining that select fe- well, not select. Pretty much the whole party was drinking but still, he was going to pass. Last party they went too, he had a little too much punch, which he later found out was spiked and needless to say that ended up with the girl's carrying him home while he yelled at the top of his lungs, challenging the villain from the Galaxy Wars movie franchise to a duel to the death.

He shook his head, letting the thought sink back into the dark; where memories go, good or bad, to drift around until called on again. Right as he was about to take another drink, some guy comes barreling over to the table and roughly bumps into Freddie's side causing him to topple a step over. He managed to balance himself out but not before he spilled some soda on his shirt. The brunette looked down to the wet circle on his tee shirt and then over to the guy who looked kind of familiar and kind of drunk. Apologetic, but drunk.

"Whoa, sorry man. I totally didn't see you there."

Freddie gave the guy a strong moment of consideration and in the end, he decided it wasn't worth getting bent out of shape over. Stuff like this happens at parties all the time, and mostly to him. He just nodded his head slightly, setting down his drink on the table. "Don't worry about it, it's not a big deal."

"Ah cool, thanks for being chill bro. Yo, have a Happy New Years!" And with that, the guy grabbed a whole bottle of, well something alcoholic and skipped (yes skipped) off back into the party, disappearing into the crowd like he had never emerged in the first place.

His pace was leisure, moving from the table over to the counter top where a roll of paper towels hung from a rack against the wall. He ripped one square section off and balled it up in his hand before rubbing furiously at the damp spot on his shirt, thinking this really was par for the course. He didn't even want to come to this party, not being the hugest fan of Luke Fender. Freddie pretty much thought the guy was a huge douche bag and would feel more than perfect never seeing the kid again after high school. Yet all that didn't matter because in the end, it wasn't his choice where he went. Sam had declared they were all going to the party and as if she was a prophet, here they are. Predicted and delivered.

He looked around for the trash can but after a few seconds with no reward, Freddie just shoved the balled paper towel in his back pocket. Russet eyes looked around, held to nothing - faces or objects. They just scanned over the room full of his classmates; some holding a quiet dialogue and others inebriated and loudly yelling punch lines with no set up which didn't matter, everyone around them still thought it was hilarious. He was really disenchanted with the thought of hanging around these people any longer and started off towards the backdoor, thinking some fresh air might just be the thing he needed.

Pushing the French door open, the first thing he noticed was the large in ground swimming pool making itself known as the centerpiece of the scene. He could tell it was a heated one due to the faint trails of stream caused from the warmth rising from the water and meeting the chilly Seattle air. Off to the side was a table, candle lit in the middle and a few chairs. Lots of lush green plants. He was the only one out here and Freddie couldn't understand why everyone was inside when this mini paradise existed just beyond some doors. Maybe they were afraid the cold weather would harsh their buzz or something. Whatever the reason, he was glad.

Each step was erratic, arbitrarily making his way over to the pool's edge. Hands found shelter from the air's bite in his pockets while he stood on the perimeter that surrounded the water, looking down at his reflection in the swells. The moment was an allusion for where he stood in world. On a night meant for celebration, at a party full of life, he stood alone out back, somberly contemplating many, many things. What comes after high school. What awaited him out in the real world, away from his family, and his friends and all the relationships keeping him grounded on his feet and not floating off into the sky, filled up with concern and questions. Mid-way through their junior year and this stuff was plaguing him more and more with each day. Graduating was so far away yet it wasn't. It was hiding on the horizon, waiting to catch a ride on the next sunrise without warning.

The shove to his back was focused and forceful, sending Freddie right into the warm waters below with a flail and a yelp. He swam in place for a second, suspended under water while he opened his eyes and worked through the shock and brief confusion and then he made his way to the surface. Popping up, he ran a hand through his wet hair, slicking back the brunette locks from his face while looking around, taking in deep breaths through his mouth. It didn't take long before the vision of Sam Puckett's grinning face and rebel without a cause stance came into view. His voice held no surprise, just the same tired verge wrapping the words while Freddie stood there, beads of water dripped down his face, holding steady to his skin until gravity established it's dominance and forced the liquid to free fall back into the pool.

"Really, Sam?"

"What? You're the one standing next to a pool daydreaming and I'm the bad guy? You know I can't help myself, that's practically baiting me." Sam shrugged her shoulders, rolling away any blame that could be put on her with the movement and her words. She started to move along side the pool, watching the water while waiting for his response. Her outfit was the usual standard. A band tee shirt for some indie band he had never heard of but she swore rocked the face off whatever crap he was listening. A pair of fitting torn jeans and blue converses. She had a jacket when they came here but it must have been left inside somewhere.

"Just because you can do something, doesn't mean you have to."

"I'm pretty sure it does. It's like science. I see a dork standing next to a pool and the result is him getting pushed into it. That's definitely science right there. I should know, I've taken it twice." She smirked, still following along the pool.

He was just about to comment that apparently twice wasn't enough but before the words could expel past his lips, the blonde beauty had jumped into the pool with her knees up against her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs in perfect cannonball form. He held firm against the currents of water her impact made and waited patiently for her to come back up.

Realizing the mistake he had made far too late, he was pulled under the water by Sam's iron grip on his ankle. Once he was able to get free, he tried to make a break for the surface but her hands got a hold of his shirt and kept him under to which he retaliated with tickling at her sides, causing her to release him instantly and the both swam to the top for air.

He sputtered a bit "You trying to drown me, Puckett?"

She moved the dripping gold strands from her face while turning her attention onto Freddie. "If I wanted you to sink to a watery grave, Benson. There would be no try, you'd be drown."

"Yeah, okay." He relented. "Fair enough."

Freddie walked his way through the water, muddled steps taking him to one side of the pool where he turned around and leaned his back against it. He watched as Sam was now floating on her back, her whole body in the warmth of the water except her face which tolerated the cold due to the ever losing battle with oxygen, always needing it to breath. Her cheeks were a flush red that seemed overly vibrant against her milky complexion, her eyes closed and face relaxed as she just drifted around, arms and legs going off in every which direction. He watched her intently and contently exist, floating along nomadically with the yells and laughter from inside as a soundtrack played at half volume, barely making it all the way to the pool and the two of them.

His arms lifted out of the water and trailed along the pavement edge, using the advantage to balance himself out and bring his legs shifting in the water.

"Where did you and Carly run off to after we got here?"

"Carly is talking to that kid Alex in the living room, I think."

"And you?"

"I've been around." She said off-handedly, bordering on cryptic all the while just continuing to drift with her eyes closed, a cheap simulation of having an out of body experience. "What about you? Why you hanging out here like a goon?"

"Why not?" She cracked an eye open and looked over at him, meeting his gaze that had never left her to let him know that he couldn't pull off the same grand sense of aloofness that she could. Freddie just shrugged in response, his voice light. "I don't know, just needed a break. I've been in there mingling or whatever but the later the hour, the higher their blood alcohol level gets."

"Yeah, they are hitting the bottles pretty hard."

Freddie watched her with a dubious expression. "You telling me you haven't partaken in the drinking?"

"I might have had a drink or two but unlike these and some lightweights." She grinned, giving him a pointed look to which he just shook his head with a light smile. "I can hold my liquor. You know cussing isn't the only thing I do like a sailor."

"I'm waiting for the day you get the popeye anchor tattooed on your forearm."

"That a dare?" He laughed and she grinned and they settled back into comfort of their relationship, a medley of banter and an endearing hostility that neither completely understood but took it as the stone they used to build the foundation of their interaction. They came to an unsaid understanding awhile ago that what they meant to one and other was a sense of preservation. When the world continued to spin and the things around them changed, they would always be Sam and Freddie. Their insults and episodes the catalyst for said understanding and yet they couldn't even keep their oath fully. Their dynamic had changed without their permission or notice. Somewhere down the line, they started using one and other for something more than preservation. They used one and other for the convenience of solidarity and familiarity. He'd keep her in check as best as he could and she'd do everything she could to fight out against it, causing him to break form and how she put it _'live a little.'_

Sam finally immigrated over to where he was and positioned herself in similar fashion. Her eyes were staring off into the distance while his were on her, watching with innocent question.

"Hey."

"Sup."

At that moment, voices from the gathering inside grew louder and louder with each chant of a number, everyone beginning to count down the last ten seconds to midnight. He hadn't even realized how late it really was.

Sam twisted her body, looking behind them towards the French doors, studying the bodies passing by the glass. Moonlight played through certain strands of her hair, that and the rapt look overtaking her face caused him to tilt his head to the side looking at her. When they hit the five mark, Freddie decided that he was going to live a little.

_Four, three, two, one._

He leaned over and placed a very soft kiss on Sam's cheek, who stiffened ever so slightly at the sudden contact. When he pulled away, she slowly turned her intense gaze on him, now studying him. Not phased by the look, it was one he knew very well, he let a lop-sided smile over take his lips. "Happy New Years, Sam."

She looked like she was having an internal debate and apparently the less violent option won out when she just lifted her hand and gave her cheek a long wipe, rubbing said hand against his shirt underwater afterward.

"Gross, Benson. Just because I pushed you in the pool doesn't mean you have to slobber on me."

He just laughed, shaking his head while he turned around and pulled himself out of the water and into the freezing air. With one knee knelt down on the cement, he offered a hand to Sam who took it. When she tried to pull him back down into the pool, his free hand gripped onto the edge and stopped the attempt. Sam arched a brow at him while grinning, letting him know she was impressed but she would get him next time. He returned the look letting her know while she was probably right, he'd be watching his back anyway.

Freddie helped the blonde out of the water and the two instantly headed for the French doors and the heat of the party.


	2. Valentine's Day

**Disclaimer:**Own nothing but a sunny disposition.

**A/N:**Thanks for the reviews. This was actually done on Friday but I couldn't post it up yesterday so here it is now.**  
**

Thanks to Vix for the beta and the usual awesomeness.

//

**Need a little holiday spirit.**

**Chapter Two - Valentine's Day.**

The gym was a testament to every rumor and assumed custom ever conceived and tied to the holiday known as Valentine's Day. Flowing strands of pink and white intertwined with one and other and flew seemingly forever across the walls and in the rafters. Huge cut outs of hearts and flowers hung like prideful banners every which way a person could turn. There was even an (horrifying, though that probably wasn't the intention) ice carving of cupid shooting his magical arrows near the punch bowl. Chocolate and assorted candies littered the refreshment table, assuring that there would be vomiting in the student parking lot after the volatile mix of sugar and spiked punch reached a critical mass later on in the night after much dancing and activity.

He sat there leaning back into the uncomfortable plastic material of the chair, his hand in a fist as it rested against his lips while staring off into the corner all the way on the other side of the gym. His eyes were locked on the image of his date, Ashley and the guy she had chosen to make out with for the last ten minutes. He watched them while they clawed at one and other like they were doing a bizarre impression of wild animals in heat. Apparently the definition of _'getting a drink' _had been changed to mean _'going out to find another guy who isn't you and put my lips all over him'._

He chuckled humorlessly.

Freddie wished someone would have told him about the definition switch, would have taken some of the shock out of the moment when he finally saw them. He had been sitting there, content in the moment and evening itself. It had been a good night up until that point. He had come to a school dance with a beautiful girl as his date, met up with his two best friends and just let loose, dancing up a storm. That's the expression he had settled on after he could hear Sam in his head berate him when the first term that came to mind was _'cutting up a rug'_. Yeah, it had been a really good night until his eyes drifted around the room and locked onto that certain scene. The brunette almost wasn't sure it was even her until they shifted to the side, really getting into… what they were doing.

That wasn't what he was contemplating though.

Freddie was reflecting on his lack of reaction. Every action had a reaction; reward, consequence, result and ending. He had asked this girl out two weeks before the dance and she had said yes. Yes, she wanted to go with him. They had exchanged numbers so he was sure she realized who he was and was alright with that. He had picked her up at her house a few hours earlier and she still seemed intent on going with him. They had arrived and danced, met with Carly and Sam and their respective dates and everything was all good. And yet, at some point when he wasn't pay attention, Ashley had made the decision that Freddie wasn't actually the guy she wanted to be here with and was now exploring the back of that guy's throat over there.

And Freddie couldn't care less.

That's what was sort of bugging him. At this point, he should be pretty pissed but he wasn't. This girl who agreed to go to the dance with him showed complete disregard for his feeling by getting PG-13 over in the corner with some guy but yet, he's not mad. He wasn't angry, or sad or taken back. He wasn't anything but calm and reposed as he sat there, lounging around. There was no connection between him and what was happening. It was like he was watching a movie and they were characters and this was just another progression to the plotline. Yeah, it was all very off putting to say the least. Enough for him to be so caught up in his thoughts he didn't even realize that Sam had walked up and taken a seat next to him, forearms leaning against her knees (despite being in a dress) as she leaned over and looked at him.

"Fredhead. What are you doing?"

He looked over at her quickly with surprise, blinking a few times. Freddie had always known Sam was beautiful. He may have spent a good amount of time in his early teen years pining away over Carly but he wasn't blind -- or stupid for that matter. She had always been pretty, it was just that her brutal and domineering personality back then overshadowed any effect her looks may have had on him. She had been probably the scariest fifteen year old girl to ever walk the planet.

Things change though, everything always changes.

Sam was vision tonight, wearing this short dress number that had been solely created for her unique style it seemed. Her long and untamed curls were down, framing her face in the usual way but they shined more brilliantly than he could ever remember. Maybe it was just the lights in the gym combined with Carly's attack of hair spray, he wasn't sure. She had little to no make up on and he was glad, she didn't need it. Sam Puckett was indeed a vision, a sun burning bright next to him which his eyes could not adjust to.

When he noticed she was staring at him with a frown waiting for an answer, he shook off the rust before he scrunched up one side of his face and shrugged at the same time.

"Watching my date make out with that guy over there."

Sam looked confused, the frown deepened. Her voice matched in sentiment. "Say what now?"

"Ashley. She's over there trying to swallow that guy's face or something." Freddie pointed over to where he had been staring moments before, only long enough for Sam to follow the direction before he dropped his hand back into his lap.

"What the f-" Sam trailed off, looking at what was in fact Freddie's date macking on Gordon Jones. The blonde gave the scene one long, hard look before turning back to the brunette at her side. "You want me to break her kneecaps?"

He arched a brow, looking at her in a mixture of perplexity and humor. "Break her kneecaps? What are you in the mob?"

"I might have connections. Girl like me, I've got friends in all the right places."

Freddie shook his head, laughing slightly before looking off into the dance floor. "Nah, don't worry about it."

"Alright."

That caused him to look back over at her, something so sharp about her tone clearly stating she was still plotting something against his ex-date. This was something new that had developed over the last year or so. She had grown comfortable with public (well showing him anyway) displays and acknowledgment of their friendship, lucid signs he was more than an aggravating nub to her. While he appreciated her willingness to fix Ashley with some cement galoshes, he really didn't want the blonde to get in trouble just because of him. Especially if this was the kind of trouble that could mean police attention. Her record already had enough to say without more volume being added to it.

Freddie turned in his seat, facing Sam with a stern look.

"I'm serious, just let it go."

She looked conflicted. "Girls like that need to learn a lesson. They can't just go around messing with people's heads even if they are dorks."

"Yeah she does, but let Karma teach her a lesson, not you." His hand lifted and ran through his hair in the pause, holding at his neck before dropping again. "I'm not mad. I didn't really want to go with her anyway. I just asked her because Carly and you wanted to come to this thing."

"Carly wanted to come, not me."

Freddie nodded with an amused look. "Uh huh, you wanted to come to this thing just as bad."

"Shut up, dweeb." Sam rolled her eyes, leaning back and looking over to the refreshment table and then back to Freddie. She seemed like she was considering saying something or not. "If it makes you feel better, the dude I came here with tonight is a bust too."

"Not prince charming huh?"

Sam shook her head, smirking a bit. "Naw, just keeps talking about how great he is at basketball. I like the sport and all but after an hour of stats, I really couldn't give a shit if the guy can shoot free throws eighty nine percent of the time."

"Seems love is indeed not in the air tonight." He mused.

"Yeah, looks like we won't be spending the rest of the night with our _valentines_." When Sam finished making the statement, she noticed Freddie had gotten this dumb look on his face.

Same look he usually gets when he's about to bug the crap out of her.

"Sam." His grin was wide and uncontrolled, his voice hitting that certain octave it can sometimes hit when a person is trying to keep from laughing.

"Don't even think about it."

"Will you be-"

She interrupted him with a fierce warning. "Shut your piehole, Benson."

"My valent-" The rest of the word was mumbled into Sam's hand which had quickly covered Freddie's mouth to shut him up. She could still see him grinning by the winkles around his eyes and that caused her to shake her head, giving his face a push back before removing her hand. Looking the other way, she bit down on a smile that threatened to break free.

"Maybe I should break your kneecaps, instead."

A rasp chuckle emitted from his throat, his tone as light as the moment. "Well, fine. I didn't want to be your valentine anyway. I'll just go find Carly and ask her. She's sure to choose me over that really good looking, athletic, wealthy guy she came with."

"You got problems, dude." Sam laughed, turning back around to face him.

"Yeah, I know." The two of them stood up while he continued. "But thankfully I have Carly and you as best friends so I can at least say to myself _'Well, at least I'm not as screwy as those two.'"_

Freddie heard a slight ringing in his ears after the whammy of a smack Sam delivered to the back of his head. His grin held steady despite the pain, matching the one on the boisterous blonde's face. They moved through the gym and he was so caught up in joking about the decorations that he didn't notice Sam mouthing threats over at Ashley who had finally broken away from Gordon Jones and had come away for air.

Ashley looked fearful. She should be.

* * *

The sky was black and filled with about a million stars as the duo moved past the old, rusted chain link fence and onto the football field. A unremitting breeze drifted past at different times as if on a whim. When she shivered, he offered her his suit jacket and she took it without a pause or thanks. They moved side by side, neither saying anything-- neither feeling the need to say anything.

It was Sam's idea to just ditch the dance, having grown tired of her date, the terrible music and the stiff aroma of sweat filling up the space. Freddie didn't have much of a counter-point for staying so he nodded in agreement. He said they should go find Carly and tell her but the blonde just shrugged off the suggestion, telling him their best friend was actually having fun and would text them if she needed to. So they pushed out through the double doors, ghosted through the empty hallways until they moved past the front and over towards the parking lot.

Of course Sam would drive herself to a dance, and of course she'd have a tee shirt and jeans to change into waiting for her in the backseat. Freddie had sat on the hood of her car, staring off over at the school and studying the outline of the building while Sam was on the other side of the vehicle getting changed. He made the suggestion to go to the bathrooms instead but she just told him to cram it and turn around. Said something else too, something along the lines of _'you peak and they'll never find your body.'_

Freddie had to resist the urge to even pretend to look just to spite her taunt.

The silence was almost tangible, hanging in the air all around them and the immediate area. They stopped around the forty yard line. Well, more like Sam just dropped to the ground suddenly and Freddie was forced to either stop or keep on walking without her. The male brunette stood over Sam as she flattened herself out on the turf, laying on her back, and looking up at the sky. His hands stuffed themselves in his pockets, russet eyes moving from her now resting form out to a unknown point out in the distance.

"Valentine's Day sucks."

He looked over at her but she was still just staring up.

"I kind of like it."

"Your date is inside the gym molesting someone with her mouth."

Freddie scowled for a moment. "I didn't say I liked this one specifically but in general, it's an alright holiday."

Sam just scoffed, hands shifting into the grass, letting the blades fill the spaces in between her fingers while Freddie continued on.

"I mean, I know it's all a marketing ploy to get people to buy cards and flowers and a bunch of gifts or whatever."

"Yeah, it is."

"But isn't it a good thing? At the core of things, it's just promoting happiness. I'd rather have them trying to trick me into being in love than lying to me about whatever else they lie to us about."

Sam finally turned his gaze onto the brunette hovering next to her, smirking. "That's because you're a sap, Benson."

Freddie just shrugged, not denying it because there wouldn't be a point and after a moment or so she tugged on one of his pant legs. It was a gesture to tell him to sit down because him standing over her was starting to bother her for some reason. He was sure if he asked she'd tell him his big head was blocking all the stars in the sky or something. He complied, like with everything else and lowered himself to the grass next to her, sitting Indian style. Neither said anything for awhile after that, they just enjoyed the usual comfortable feeling of hanging around one and other and stared off.

Idly, without his consent, his hand found a lock of her golden hair and Freddie began twirling the strand through his fingers. Sam didn't say anything, didn't even acknowledge it so he figured it didn't bother her.

She was known for speaking her mind when things bothered her.

"Only a few months of school left."

Sam closed her eyes, a look of actual happiness lighting up her features for a second. "I know, can't wait."

"And then comes senior year. And then comes college."

"No, and then comes summer. All that other crap isn't worth thinking about."

He looked down at her. "The rest of your life isn't worth thinking about?"

"Nope."

"Sam."

"Maybe it is." She paused, opening her eyes and meeting his gaze. "But it's not worth thinking about right now."

"It's going to come faster than you think."

Sam broke the connection, letting her eyes turn to the sky.

"So I'll think about it when it comes."

He didn't say anything more, just noticed how the muscles in her face tensed in the slightest. Noticed the far away look clouding her usually sharp blue eyes all of a sudden. Yeah, he knew she didn't like talking about this kind of stuff, but he couldn't help but be worried about her. What she would do when they were all forced out into the real world. He had a plan, she needed to have one too and if she didn't get one, he was planning on making one for her.

Freddie continued to twirl her strand of hair between his fingers when she spoke again, breaking the brief intermission.

"I think I'd like to travel after senior year though."

The idea was very her, she had always had a sort of wanderlust in the back of her eyes. Like Seattle just wasn't big enough to hold her.

Freddie grinned softly. "Still dream of getting arrested in all fifty states huh."

"Hey, all the American owned territories too." She looked back over at him, grinning in return. "Mama has plans for the District of Columbia and Puerto Rico."

He feigned shock. "Did Sam Puckett just use knowledge she learned in school?"

"Yeah and if you tell anyone, you're gonna be the reason for my arrest in Washington. Or well, my fourth one anyway."

It continued on like that. Sam and Freddie hung out there for the rest of the night, into the early hours of morning. Hours filled with sitting around. Small talk and jokes. Teasing and mild violence. Filled with comfortable silence and day dreaming. Valentine's Day was an alright holiday indeed, even if it was created with the intent to make money. The message still got through.

They managed to find some happiness.


	3. Saint Patrick's Day

**Disclaimer:** Me. Own. Nothing.

**A/N: **So I totally flaked out, there's really no excuse. I kept meaning to write it and then when I finally did, but life happens and keeps happening so I apologize to anyone who was actually enjoying the story, uh… here's chapter three? Yeah.

Thanks to Vix and Airekuh for beta'ing some of it for me. The latter half isn't beta'd so any typos are all mine, and there are probably plenty.

//

**Got holiday spirit?**

**Chapter Three - Saint Patrick's Day**

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her breath and smile blissfully unaware of his scrutinize and the world around. And this was a true, warm feeling boiling in the pit of your stomach, lips turn upwards so far and wide that it feels like your face is going to crack or forever stay taut; stuck in that position kind of smile. Not a devilish grin or mocking smirk so routinely fitted and experienced, it was definitely an authentic smile. Freddie could pick out them with ease because they rarely made appearances in the real world. At least from Sam Puckett.

He shifted the weight from his left leg to his right as they stood outside of a tavern that looked so run down, he was afraid it would come collapsing to the ground at any second. Secretly, he had been looking around for the _condemned _sign the place obviously had but so far there had been no sighting of it yet. Of course Sam would pick a place like this to come too. Carly was spending time with Spencer and her grandfather (who never shows up for real holidays, like Christmas but manages to find time for Saint Patrick's Day. Anyone else see anything wrong there?) which left Freddie and Sam to their own devices.

Freddie wanted to go see the mini Irish festival being held in the park but the blonde had shot his idea out of the water as soon as it came out of his mouth. Told him that she wasn't in the mood for little kids and face painting and all that _crap. _So when his idea was killed, he made the mistake of asking what she wanted to do and as soon as that gleam entered her blue eyes, he knew he was in trouble. That's why they were currently standing outside of this local pub, who had opened it's falling off the hinges doors to all ages for Saint Patrick's Day.

Apparently a rad ass punk band was playing here tonight and it was a show they just couldn't miss. Freddie was pretty sure he could miss it and the world would keep spinning.

"Can't wait for them to get on stage. I heard they set the last place on fire."

"They did what now?" The brunette looked over at Sam in alarm, brows knitted together.

"They set the place on fire. And the people had the nerve to be surprised about it, the band is called _'We Set Fires!'_"

"We are purposely walking into a place basically made of kindling wood to see a band known to set fires why?" He asked in thick sarcasm.

"Because I said so, stop being a wuss about it." She leaned off to the right, trying to look around the few people in front of them to see how close they were to getting in. "This is why I don't take you places."

"Yeah, thanks for letting me tag along on a trip to a death trap."

They finally were next in line and Freddie stepped over to the burly gentlemen standing at the entrance. The two men (well, boy and man) looked over one and other, inspecting before the guy nodded which Freddie took as signal to put out his hand for a _no drinking _stamp. The brunette held out his left arm and looked confused for a moment when the guy's eyes went a bit wide. He followed the gaze to his arm and realization flooded him. He forgot that Sam had spent all day pinching the hell out of his arm despite the fact he was wearing a green polo and now it was overly red with tiny nail marks trailing up and down.

"What the hell happened to your arm?" The guy asked as he stamped the back of Freddie's hand.

"That thing behind me."

Sam laughed, pushing him through tavern's doorway so she could get her stamp and follow in fashion. He stumbled a bit but managed to balance himself out before lifting his gaze from the floor to look around the smoke filled confines.

Freddie stuck out like a sore thumb, surrounded by men and women covered in piercing and tattoos, clothes tattered and hair skewed in different directions like an extreme version of bedhead. There was a band on stage already jumping around. They didn't seem to be playing their instruments as much as torturing them to death. The singer whelped lyrics into the microphone whenever he felt like it but it didn't seem like words as much as a battle cry but hey, the crowd didn't seem to mind it, the place was full of energy as they jumped and smashed into one and other, bouncing off to repeat the action against someone else.

"Opening band."

He turned, looking over at Sam as she came to a stop at his side.

"They have a special gimmick too?"

"You mean besides blowing hardcore? Naw, they're just some random locals " She laughed and it seemed like she was done talking but then she latched onto his arm and started pulling off him somewhere. "Come on, let's get some drinks before _fires _comes on."

He staggered for a few steps but evened out, narrowly dodging questionable character after questionable character while Sam was gripping him; leading him to the bar like a lamb to the slaughter. If he wasn't so out of his element right now, he'd focus more on that distinct shift in his insides and the light humming in his ears that always seemed to manifest itself whenever the blonde would touch him lately. And she had been doing a lot of that too. The whole touching business. And he wasn't talking about hitting because she had always done that and these moments of contact didn't leave bruises like the ones trailing up and down his arm. He was talking about how she would throw her arm over his shoulders whenever she showed up (seemingly out of nowhere) and started a conversation. Or when she would use his body as a pillow during the trio's movie nights. Or like now, when she would wrap her hand just above his wrist and tug him around like a dog, or a little kid in a grocery store.

The two of them finally made it to the bar and both found a stool to sit on. Sam was trying to get the bartender's attention while Freddie just continued to let his eyes scan the _hole in the wall _he let her take them to. Eyebrow arched, nose scrunched up in faint disgust, he spoke.

"We should have done our personal health paper on this place. Think I've caught Hep B, C and D just sitting here."

"Let's be fair here, you more than likely caught all that from Ashley." She grinned and he rolled his eyes. "But yeah okay, over exaggerating much, nub. This place is apart of the Seattle scene, it's a classic."

"When did they change classic to mean run down?"

"Bout the same time they said it was cool for you to walk around in public with that face even though it scares people on the streets."

He scowled just as the bartender finally finished with a customer at the other end and made his way over to them. The guy looked at them expectantly, he was big and tattoo'd. Sam looked unimpressed.

"Two beers."

Freddie quickly amended her statement. "Two cokes."

The bartender looked at them with annoyance, it was obvious they weren't the first two to try and score some alcohol while being underage'd tonight but he went about his job anyway. The drinks were poured fairly quickly and set in front of them, accompanied by the guy's condescending tone before moving away.

"Here you go, _kids_."

Sam's eyes widened in the slightest. "What a punkas-"

Freddie clamped his hand over his blonde counterpart's mouth as the bartender turned back around, clearly not amused.

"She's talking about me." He nodded in agreement with his statement. The guy looked Freddie over once or twice before finally shaking his head and moving to another customer. At this point, Sam decided to lick the inside of his hand, causing him to release his hold instantly with a whiney: "Awh gross, Sam."

Sam just grinned. "You're lucky you didn't come away with fingers missing, punkass."

* * *

"Ow! Sam, stop, let up."

"Quit cryin`, kid. You need to apply pressure."

The duo sat on a dusty, ragged couch towards the back of the establishment with Sam holding a bag crammed full of ice against Freddie's left eye. Right when _We Set Fires _walked onto the stage, Sam had pulled him into the crowd with more excitement than he could ever remember seeing on her face. Even while the band was just plugging in and setting up their equipment, the blonde was bouncing up and down somewhat in place, one hand gripping tight to his arm for reasons unknown. When the band started into their first song, the place erupted and ripped in half. Music roared on while lights flashed. Bodies started flying all around them and it wasn't long before Sam and him were split up and forced into different directions.

He made it through three songs before he couldn't take it anymore, the heat and the pushing becoming too much to take. Freddie, face drained and overly red had fought for his life in that spinning pit of underground punk death, trying to avoid limbs coming at him from all angles and make it to the back and out of the swarm and you know what? He almost made it out but almost doesn't mean anything so right as he was about to escape, an elbow seemingly materialized right in front of him and slammed hard into his left eye, causing the male brunette to trip backwards towards the ground. Laying there on the gross, dirty floor, he felt the end was near. If he didn't die from being stomped into oblivion, he was going to catch a fatal disease down here for sure.

But then bodies were pushed away from him and an angel appeared overhead, long blonde curls flowing down towards him and highlighted and glowing from the lights above them. Hands interlocked and eyes connected, Sam pulled him to his feet and then took them out of the crowd. She ordered him to the couches in the back, which he trudged along to with one hand tightly holding against his injured eye while she made her way to the bar to get ice. That pretty much leaves them where they are now.

"Yeah, I got that but you aren't applying pressure, you are like trying to merge the bag with my face and it hurts a whole hell of a lot." He complained, trying to swipe her hand away and take the bag from her at the same time but his efforts were for naught. She just pushed his hand away, leaning forward even more to keep the same amount of force applied.

"I got the right amount of weight. Who is the expert on fighting here? Yeah, me. So assume I know what I'm talking about when it comes damage control and just chill out, dork."

Freddie grumbled something unintelligible but didn't try to fight for the bag of ice again.

"If it makes you feel any better, you lasted longer than I thought you would."

"Yeah, totally makes me feel better than I managed to hold off on getting punched in the face and almost trampled to death for a good amount of time that seems impressive to you."

"Well good, glad it helps." If she realized he was being sarcastic, she didn't show it. So he decided to inform her just incase, like always.

"I was being sarcastic, Sam."

"Yeah, I know. But you suck at it so it's better for the both of us if I just ignore it."

He became indignant. "I do not suck at it."

"Dude, yeah you do. It's never funny and it always comes out all snarky and pissy like you got a stick up your butt."

Freddie's lips thinned against one and other and he said nothing, just looked away with the one non bruised eye he had. Neither said anything for the longest time, instead listening to the music from the band and the random crowded noise from all around and letting it fill as static where their words would be. The brunette forgot all about being annoyed with Sam when all of a sudden he felt the bag of ice lift from his eye and the warm air send an attack at the chilled skin, biting at the sore flesh. His left eye was still closed but he bought the right one back around to meet her gaze which didn't work out all the well because though she was looking at him, she wasn't _looking at him. _You know? He was about to say something when she lifted her head and let her fingertips graze the bruise gently which was something he never thought Sam could be. No matter how soft the touch was, it still stung and he flinched in the slightest.

Sam voice's was low, it would have been drowned out by the sound around them if they weren't so close.

"Sorry."

She was looking at him in a way she's never looked at him before and he felt dizzy and off balance despite sitting down. He took steady, hopefully subtle breaths in to counteract the effort before he met her gaze and true to her nature, she didn't back off and break the connection. Just keep watching him with that unreadable look that as seconds turned to minutes, it was truthfully starting to freak him out a bit. When it became a bit all too intense for him, he finally just shrugged. It seemed to break the spell.

"It's cool."

"Looks like you are going to have hell of a shiner."

"Oh great, that's just what I need." He paused, sucking in another breath. "My mom is going to kill me."

A rasp chuckle escaped Sam when her fingers finally dropped away and she replaced the bag against his eye. "She's not going to kill ya`, probably just baby you some more. Hey, maybe she'll put you in like a head cast. Give the world some time off from staring at your face."

"That's great, Sam. Really."

"You'll be fine. We can tell the nosey mouth breathers at school that you got into a fight defending my honor or some crap. That sounds cheesy enough to be something you'd do."

Freddie fixed her with a searching look, brow arched in question. "Why not just tell them the truth? Me getting elbowed in the face and getting a black eye is the kind of thing you love to spreading around."

Sam's turn to shrug, voice nonchalant.

"You've earned a break. Just expect something twice as bad as usual to happen in the near future."

"Easy enough, I do that anyway."

Lapsing back into noisy silence, he watched with one eye while she bobbed her head up and down slightly with the music.

"You can go back out there you know, I can hold my own icepack."

"Sure you don't need momma to sit with you and make it all better?"

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "No, I'm good, Sam. Go get down to your crazy spaz music."

"First of all, I don't get down. I rock out. Don't ever forget that." She told him and he couldn't tell if she was being deadly serious or messing around. "Second of all, crazy spaz music? Do we really need to dissect the kind of crap you listen to?"

"No. No, we don't." He said with a grimace, remembering the last time they got into a musical debate which ended with him covered in syrup and hash browns in the middle of a Denny's.

"Thought so." She smirked, and lifted his hand to take hold of the bag of ice from her. "Keep the pressure on. The right amount of pressure, don't be a wuss. I'll be back for ya` in a bit, Benson. Don't miss me too much."

He just grinned, nodding while she got up and started to move back into the chaos. Sitting there, bag against his eye, numbing half his face, he could make out glimpses of her. Unruly blonde hair flying above the crowd for a second, the yellow of her shirt in contrast to the sea of green, some kid screaming to get out and being dragged back in with her hands latched to his leg. She was totally in her element in this place. This dirty, and loud, and insane place. He shifted, keeping the ice to his face tightly, like she said.

Sometimes he had to risk life and limb to hang out with Sam Puckett.

Most of the time it was worth it.


	4. April Fool's Day

**Disclaimer:** No claims to ownership of iCarly but thanks for asking.

**A/N: **Feels like I haven't written Sam/Freddie in forever, been whoring it out in the fandom with different pairings but felt the urge to revisit Holiday Spirit so here is the mess I've managed to produce.

//

**Holiday Spirit**

**Chapter Four - April Fool's Day**

Yeah, _crap_ pretty much sums up their current situation.

It had been a good fifteen minutes since the realization that they were locked; trapped inside of the elevator hit the air all around them and only now was it really and fully starting to sink in. Freddie was currently pacing back and forth at a steady yet relentless rhythm in the confined area, russet eyes trained to the white tile squares so tightly that it seemed as if he was trying to look through them. Thoughts were scattered, shooting all over the place.

A reoccurring one that seemed to crash into him like a wave, eroding away the calm he was trying to trick himself into feeling, was that his mom was going to kill him or at least lock him in his room this shy of forever. She would start to worry when he didn't come home at the time he promised he would, and then would come the mental breakdown when it got dark outside and he was still nowhere to be seen. Give or take another hour without contact, and she'd call the police who would be no help and ultimately agitate her even more with their _'a person has to be missing for twenty four hours'_ procedure. He groaned and then inwardly shuddered at what awaited him when they finally were able to get out of here and she realized he was literally in the building down the hall this whole time. Of course the intercom panel in the elevator had been busted for the better part of a year now according to Sam and you know, this would of course have to happen after Sam had taken apart his phone to see if she could put it back together again. He still thought that was just a bad cover story because no one takes something apart with a hammer in the name of science.

Sam was sitting against the wall, one leg stretched out and the other slightly bent at the knee while she studied the striding boy with her usual _'cool customer'_ persona firmly intact. Neither had said anything to the other since the elevator first froze in place and Freddie let out that impossibly girlish yelp, then proceeded to bang on the doors which were tightly sealed shut and seemed to scream _'yeah, fat luck with that.' _

After another minute or so of watching Freddie go back and forth, the blonde finally spoke. Her voice sounded loud and harsh against what had been thick silence. She lifted a hand, curled all her fingers back except the index to point over at him, moving the finger back and forth to mirror his pacing. "So, how is that working for you, dude? Come up with any ideas?"

He instantly stopped moving and turned his attention onto the sitting girl, saying what was at the forefront of his brain. "Where is your phone, Sam?"

"Why- what's it to you?"

"What's it to me, Sam? What's it to me?" He made sure to draw out her name, it was something that usually annoyed the blonde and at this point, he felt she needed to at least be somewhat worked up, like he was. "We are currently locked inside an elevator with no way out and if we had a phone, we could call my mom, or Carly, or the police. Just- anyone to come get us out!" It came out in an agitated breath, one he quickly continued when he saw she was about to open her mouth to insult or protest. "But since my phone is currently in a thousand pieces all over the back table of computer lab at school, having your phone would be the only option left. So I repeat, where is your phone, Sam?"

Before she looked a mixture of bored and amused but when he finished, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Where my phone is, is of no consequence to you, Benson. All you need to know is it isn't here so it's not an option."

"Sam, this isn't a joke, we are stuck here."

"Does it look like I'm laughing?" She arched a brow at him, daring him to make any sort of comment back. "Act'n like I want to be locked in here with your fat head."

Freddie sighed in defeat, giving up easier than usual but instead of pacing again, he stood in place with shoulders slumped and gaze moving off to an unknown point on the wooden panels. He existed like that for the next minute, so he was caught off-guard (the only reason for another slightly girly yelp that left his lips) when he felt Sam's foot nudge into his ankle suddenly. He looked down at her frustrated, with a look that seemed to ask what she wanted without vocalizing the question.

She looked up at him, tone nonchalant. "Listen, it ain't that big of a deal. I'm sure there is a way out but until you think of it, you should just like chill out some."

He watched her with a faint frown, one he wasn't aware he wore when he repeated her words back to her. "Chill out some?"

"Yeah." She nodded, saying it as if he had learning disabilities. "Chill out some. It's not going to do you any good to get all riled up and start hyperventilating or some chiz. Sit down, relax, stop sucking in all the air supply."

When he continued to look at her like he didn't quite get what she was working at, she let out an exasperated huff of air, removing one of her hands from the pocket of her hoodie and leaning forward, she grabbed onto Freddie's pant leg and pulled down with as much force as she could. It didn't pull him down but he did latch onto the waistline of his jeans to keep them from being yanked to his ankles. "Sam!"

"Yeah, how about you don't talk anymore and just sit the freak down, it's so much nicer that way." Sam tossed the words over to him as she continued to sit there reposed.

Freddie scowled in response but said nothing. Instead, he chose to sit down on the opposite side of the elevator and keep his gaze firmly planted to the ceiling, starting to count in his head how long it could take for someone to realize their predicament and for help to arrive.

One, two, three, four, five, six….

* * *

"Sam, what are you doing?" Freddie asked, turning his eyes onto the blonde across from him as she seemed to be concentrating heavily at him, disturbingly so. If he were to check the watch on his wrist (which he did every thirty seconds), he'd know that another two hours had past and that was a hundred and twenty minutes closer to dying in a small box hanging on a cable. And not from suffocating or growing old but because he was certain that he heard rumbling from her stomach seconds ago which meant she was getting hungry and with him being the only other thing in the compact space, it wouldn't be long before she turned to cannibalism. He gave her another twenty minutes before things got bloody.

"Trying to see if I can blow up your head using telekinesis."

He grimaced, trying to push himself more into the wall which was impossible just to create more distance between the two of them. "And why are you doing that?"

"Because I'm tired of looking at your face." She answered back matter-of-factly, now lifting a hand and placing it in front of her. She measured his face in between her index finger and thumb and began to close the two fingers, then open them, then close them again. If he had to guess, she was probably showing him a visual aid of one of the ways she wanted his head to disappear. It was just more proof that the longer they were trapped in here, the more violent and unstable Sam would become. He had to think of something soon or he wasn't going to make it to graduation

He shook his head, trying to regain his focus when Sam said something he didn't catch. "Huh?"

"I said, you ever wonder what it'd be like to get rid of your head? It seems to me that if you could just ditch the face and everything, your luck with the ladies would improve tenfold."

Freddie just rolled his eyes before looking away. "I've dated plenty of girls and they've all liked my face just fine."

"Plenty meaning three and liked meaning managed to stomach." Sam dropped her hand back down to her lap, shifting somewhat looking to get more comfortable. "I still can't believe you dated Wendy for as long as you did. Isn't that chick like the most boring person you've ever met in your entire life excluding yourself and your mom."

"Hey!" Freddie wasn't really sure who he should defend first but because defending himself or his mother was always a moot point with Sam, Wendy won by default. "Wendy isn't boring, Sam, she's actually really cool and it would have been nice if you weren't such a jerk to her when we were together. It's not li-"

Freddie was then interrupted by Sam stretching out and kicking him in his shin as best she could causing him to groan out from the sting. "That's being a jerk. How I was with Wendy, that was just being honest. You guys were like an old jewish couple, it was so freakin` boring. You guys would hang out at Carly's and just like hug all the time, then you'd go to your apartment and have dinner with your crazy mom and after that I assume you guys had rocking chairs in the living room and you'd knit together or some crap."

"Knit, Sam. Really?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, that or like listen to oldies on the radio and talk about how crazy it was back you were still young."

"We never did that." Freddie said with certainty before he arched a brow, fixing his eyes on unruly blonde. "But even so, what's so bad about being like that. It was nice."

She was slow to her feet, pushing against the elevator floor with her palms and standing up. Few steps over towards the control panel and she continued on her train of thought. "It's uninteresting, dude. People should actually be sixty eight and married before they start acting like they're sixty eight and married. I mean I won't ever be like that because I'll go out in a fiery explosion of death and awesomeness before I ever get old and boring but people like you should hold it off until then." She paused for a second, prying open the panel. "Need to start living dangerously, Benson. Ashley was a start what with the cheating and sexually transmitted diseases but aim a little higher than trash like her and find a girl that's going to shake things up for you."

"Dangerous girl who is going to shake things up for me huh?" He asked in this unsure tone. "Sounds a whole lot like this girl I know named-"

Sam pushed a few buttons and then all of a sudden the elevator seemed to power back up and start moving again and Freddie quickly jumped to his feet, moving over to where the blonde stood with his mouth agape.

"How did you do that? You said that the panel was busted and we'd have to wait it out. That's what you said, you said it was busted. How did you do that?" The rush of words spilled past his lips, eyes shifting back and forth between the panel and Sam, unable to decide who to flare at.

Sam only shrugged. "Yeah, guess I lied about that. I had Gibby go down to the basement and turn off the power to stop the elevator for a few minutes before turning it back on."

All Freddie could do is stare when they arrived at their floor and the doors pulled apart and reveled a plethora of space for them to exist in. Sam shook her head and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him out of the elevator and into the hallway. He was so confused by the chain of events that had just unfolded that the heat and warmth blazing up where their skin touched and rubbed against each other in friction from their steps wasn't enough to distract him from his questioning. "Why would you do that, Sam?"

"Happy April Fool's Day, nub."

And then it clicked. Today was April 1st, he had somehow forgotten exactly what day it was again even though last year he swore he would never ever forget again because of the tarter sauce but he had and he was pretty mad at himself. Sam let go of his wrist and took a few steps away before turning around and grinning at him that purely Sam Puckett grin, the one that said _yeah I won again, sucks don't it._ Freddie lifted a hand and began rubbing at the knot in the back of his neck, the one that had formed from sitting in an elevator for so long.

"I get that it was a prank but why would you trap yourself in the elevator with me, we were in there for like three hours, Sam." He asked, looking over at her with furrowed brows.

And of course she would shrug again and look away. "I like to be thorough with my work. Someone had to restart the elevator from the inside."

Right around that time was when the door to his apartment swung open and came charging out was his mom whose lips were strained and face was red. Sam chuckled, taking a step closer and reaching out to pinch one of his cheeks to which he swatted her hand away while she spoke. "Good things come to those who wait. Good luck with the loon, Benson. Merry April Fool's Day."

And then she sauntered off to Carly's, passing Mrs. Benson who was in mid-rant. "Where exactly have you been, Mister? Do you know what time it is? Do you know it's dark outside and you didn't check in with me like you said. You always have to check in with me, you know that, Freddie. You know that and you didn't. I was worried sick you know. I called the police! Of course they didn't do anything because the law enforcement in this city are just lazy lay abouts but I called anyway. What happened to your phone? Why is it going straight to voicemail?"

He was already tuning her out as she grabbed him by the collar and started to yank him towards their apartment, making yet another promise to himself that next year he wouldn't forget again and that he would avoid tarter sauce and elevators at all costs.

//

**A/N 2:** Whenever I get back to this, I suppose 4th of July will be next. Thanks for reading, whoever does.


	5. 4th of July

**Disclaimer:** Stop asking, it's annoying. We both know I don't own iCarly.

**A/N: **So, it's been like five months since I've posted anything iCarly related because-- well I don't know. Had a falling out with the fandom or something, went on to other things. Just because I haven't been posting, doesn't mean I haven't been writing. This chapter has been worked on, on and off for a long, long time now for two reasons. One, I wasn't sure if I wanted to come back to the fandom and two, this just seemed like one of those crucial chapters you basically have to get right, you know? Probably not and I probably didn't get it right but here it is anyway.

Chapter is dedicated to **Champagnescene**, **Vix23**, and **Basco57** who are just some of the authors that have re-inspired me with their writing. Even though the first person has failed logic.

//

**Chapter Five - 4th of July**

And then they were kissing.

Sam's lips tasted like sour apples and vodka, was all he could focus on while she pushed him into the brick wall, pressing flush against his body with clear intentions. She clearly intended to get rid of any and all space between them until they somehow merged into one person and she also clearly intended to fully dominate his mouth with her tongue. Somewhere in the back of his head, there was that voice, the one all logical and arrogant, telling him that he was entering dangerous territory right now but Freddie didn't have the resolve to listen and break away from kiss at the moment. It took everything in him to not be completely over powered by the blonde.

His hands smacked out blindly against the rough surface of the brick, stretching out at either side of him on initial impact against the wall but the pain gets swallowed up by her heat and the adrenaline rushing through his blood so his hands quickly found their way to her hips after, thumbs grazing at the thin strip of skin exposed from her extending upwards to meet his lips, the action causing her shirt to lift in the slightest. They go at this seemingly forever, probably only like four or five minutes in real time and it's a give and take fueled by alcohol and aggression and this underling something else that his brain isn't operating at full capacity to label and explore.

And then they break apart.

They're sucking in ragged, shallow breaths against each other's lips while still pressed against one and other. Her eyes are clouded when he managed to catch them but there is something unmistakably defined swirling around them and despite the confusion about what just happened and the vodka slowing down his senses, he knows what it means which is why he doesn't fight it when she leans in one more time, kissing him gently by her standards, biting down on his lower lip somewhat before removing herself from their embrace. After the look she gave him, he knows that even though she is walking away right now back into the excitement filling up the park.

Well really-- she's running away.

* * *

**Two hours earlier.**

The sky is alive like abstract art; explosions of color flaring up all over the place against the canvas of moon and stars. Brentwood Park is packed full of people, and noise, and joyfulness as everyone is in the full swing of celebrating the fourth of July. Sam and Freddie were currently in the middle of everything with an old blanket thrown out hazardly over the thick grass, sitting side by side. Carly had left a little while ago with her new flavor of the month, Mark, to go to this party thing one of Mark's friends was having.

Freddie was pretty surprised when Sam passed on the chance at teenage debauchery and all that it usually entailed but less so when after their brunette friend had left **(**he decided to hang with Sam instead of go with Carly, because you know uh, parties aren't really his thing**) **when she pulled out a water bottle filled with vodka from her back pack and flashed him her usual grin.

"Where did you get that?" He asked, shaking his head.

"You're kidding, right? You know my mom, woman drinks like a fish. I just skimmed some outta the top of her bowl."

He watched her intently, one brow arched as she turned to her side and started to dig through the bag again before pulling out another questionably filled water bottle and tossing it to him-- he barely caught it in surprise.

"Christ, Sam, how many of these do you have?"

"I dunno," She said, unscrewing the cap before knocking back a swig, the alcohol barely twisting her face into grimace. "Two or eight. Listen, cut it out with the questions and just like-- drink some. Might make you man up a little, put some hair on your chest."

"I don't need to man up." He said with a bit of a scowl, unscrewing his bottle and lifting it to his nose to smell. One sniff caused him to jerk his head back in disgust.

"Yeah, okay." She snorted out in reply.

He didn't dignify the sound with a response, instead he brought the bottle back to his face, this time lower to his lips and let the clear substance pour into his mouth. He held it there for a few seconds, letting it pool there and sting his tongue before he finally swallowed it down and left a stream of fire down his throat and an instant burning in his stomach. Freddie knew he had made a stupid looking face because of the drink but he was surprised to turn to see Sam looking at him with something else than the mocking he expected. She almost looked proud and then there was a mixture of something else. It was the same something he had been seeing more and more from her and it was really starting to frustrate him that he couldn't identify it.

They were best friends now, like officially. She didn't try to hide it or cover it with insults-- though there was still insults, and violence, and everything else. But for the first time in ever, he felt like she gave a chiz about him and that this friendship was finally a two way street. Since school let out, they've literally spent everyday together during the summer. It didn't matter what they did, they did it together. A lot of the time they hung out with Carly but a good amount of the time too, it was just the two of them. They went to the arcade, the pool, sometimes the movies but mostly they just got food and sat around different places and made fun of the people that passed by. It was refreshing to be able to join in on the taunting instead of being the victim of it all the time.

"What?"

"Nothing." She shrugged, taking another gulp from her bottle.

"Come on, Sam. What's the look about?"

"I was just wondering how many more sips like that you could take before you barf. I was originally gonna say one more but you're surprising sometimes, Benson, so I'm gonna say two more before you get upchuck everywhere."

"You're not funny." He dead panned. Freddie knew what she was doing, she was trying to use reverse psychology and trick him into trying to prove her wrong thus drinking more. And while he knew what she was doing, he couldn't help but argue with her anyway. "And I'm not going to barf, okay. I can hold my liquor easily."

"You can't even hold your apple juice easily."

"Shut up."

She grinned even wider. "Remember? You puked up all over the hallway?"

"I had the flu, Sam. That had nothing to do with apple juice."

"Sure, still puked. Like a lot too. It was kind of impressive as far as puking goes."

He rolled his eyes before looking up to the sky above them, watching a bunch of fireworks all going off at the same time and slowly falling and then dying out. Without notice, he lifted the water bottle to his lips and took another swig. Freddie instantly remembered that it wasn't exactly water in said water bottle but managed to swallow it down with another grim look. He could hear Sam chuckle but refused to take his eyes off of the sky so instead he sucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, still battling with the taste of the vodka before muttering out.

"Whatever."

* * *

Four and a half water bottles **(**between the two of them**)** later and Freddie is feeling better than he could ever remember.

"I told you, " He started, looking down at the blonde beauty who was now laying on her back, curls splashed out all around her. She was watching him, cheeks a faint red probably due to both the heat and the alcohol equally. "Didn't I tell you? I haven't even barfed once."

"Yeah, you told me, Benson. Consider mama impressed."

He looked satisfied, nodding in agreement before falling back from his sitting position until he was laying next to Sam, his eyes on the sky. He felt really good, and warm and he was really glad Sam decided to skip the party tonight because more and more these days, he liked it better when it was just the two of them. Not to say he didn't like having Carly around, she was one of his best friends after all and he had loved her at one point but Sam always seemed to be more at ease with him when it was just the two of them. Like, she just-- well he couldn't explain it but there was something definitely different. And Freddie liked it and he wanted to experience more of it which is why tonight was so awesome. Though, the vodka might have had a helping hand in the mood of the evening, he guessed.

"What do you think of Mark?"

Freddie seemed to think for a moment. "He's got a funny shaped head?"

"Dude!" Sam laughed. "I thought I was the only one who noticed that."

"No, I noticed it. It's like, I dunno-- shaped like a pear." He paused. "I wonder if Carly notices."

"Totally is. And she has to have noticed. Maybe she has a thing for pears."

"Carly doesn't strike me as the type to be sexually attracted to fruit."

"You never know with Carls."

He laughed, rolling onto his side to look over at her. Propping the side of his face against his hand, he can see her looking at him through her peripheral with her brows raised a little.

"Yeah?"

"Tonight was fun."

"So?" She asked, acting like she doesn't know what he's getting at but he kind of thinks she does.

"So nothing, it was fun."

"Okay, well, duh." She states, turning her head to look at him. "Grilled food everywhere you look, cheap alcohol and the company of someone as kickass as me, course it's gonna be a fun night."

He said nothing, just grinned and they stayed like that for a minute or so before suddenly, Sam popped up.

"I gotta pee."

Freddie looked up at her amused. "Good to know?"

"You gonna come with?" Sam offered her hand. She looked like she expected him too so he just shrugged, reached up and took it, letting her pull him up.

They walked in silence which was a stark contrast to the loud noises overhead, people still sending off fireworks into the sky. Weaving through the crowds, it only took them a few minutes to get to the restroom building where they went their separate ways with only a nod in acknowledgement.

Freddie pulled open the heavy door and stepped into the dimly light restroom. It wasn't exactly dirty but then again, it wasn't exactly clean either. His steps were measured as he moved to the sink and mirror. He didn't actually have to use the bathroom or anything, so instead he turned on the facet and watched the water pour down for a moment or so before dipping his hands in and letting the water pool there. Few quick splashes to his face and he felt a little cooler, watching his reflection as the wetness quickly dried due to the heat; water drops barely making it down his cheeks to his neck.

When he exited, no one was around so he figured Sam was still in the bathroom. He leaned himself against the brick of the building, eyes searching out into the crowd for nothing at all while he waited. When it felt like he had been standing there for a few hours, he pushed off the wall with his foot and moved to turn around the corner and directly collided with the blonde herself. His hands wrapped around her arms instinctually, keeping her from falling backwards to the pavement. They stayed frozen like that for a moment, just staring at each other and maybe it was something in the moment, or the amount of alcohol he had consumed but right then, he had never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life. And it seemed like she might feel even a hint of what he was feeling by the way she was looking at him.

And then the way she was leaning into him, pushing off on her tip-toes, bringing her face closer and closer to his own.

And then they were kissing.


	6. Yom Kippur

**Disclaimer: **Raise your hand if you think I own iCarly. There should be no raised hands.

**A/N: **Back again. I was reading a story this morning and it was never finished and I got all annoyed. It made me think back to this story so I wrote up this chapter. I will finish this. It might take forever and a day **(**by the time I get the last chapter out, no one will even be reading anymore**)** but I will get it done. Four chapters to go. This one is a bit of a filler. When Halloween gets written, it will be a dozy of a chapter, let me tell you.

I decided to do Yom Kippur for two reasons. One was I felt the gap between the 4th of July and Halloween was too long and I wanted something to place in between them and two, though I'm not Jewish, in my own personal head canon, Sam is. This idea was influenced by Mizufae who as far as I know, was the first to claim Sam as Jewish.

/

**Holiday Spirit**

**Chapter Six - Yom Kippur.**

There was a guy in the corner of the room, one of those singer songwriter types. You know, with the half grown in beards and that wear scarves all year `round. He was playing an acoustic guitar, sending out a lush melody that flourished with ease. It wasn't the only thing in the air through, the smell of roasted beans thick and perfuming and trails of conversations seemingly everywhere also existed as Freddie sat all cozy in an arm chair placed near the window of the coffee shop. His feet were propped up on the wooden table, next to his closed laptop as he held a torn copy of _The Catcher and the Rye _open in his lap with one hand and a cup of decaf in the other.

Today was Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, holiest day of the year for religious Jews. To the people in the faith, it was a day to fast and pray for repentance intensively. To Freddie who wasn't Jewish, it was a day off from school. Which as always he had conflicted feelings about. Freddie loved school, it just the kind of person he was- there was a natural high to be had every time he learned something new. He sat at the front of all his classes, hand always in the air. He studied relentlessly, critical of every fact and he did extra credit even if there was no extra credit to be done. School was like, his thing. But it wasn't all of who he was and he could relent to the truth that having a day off every once and awhile was important, was needed. It sometimes even helped the newly gained knowledge settle in.

So Freddie was making the most of his day off. Enjoying his coffee and a good book, one he's read many times over. He was at the part where Holden takes Phoebe to the Central Park Zoo when she came up behind him, leaning over the back of his chair and out of his peripherals he could see untamed blonde curls on either side of his face, tickling his cheek when she leaned over further. He paused for a second before tilting his head back and confirming his suspicions by locking eyes with the girl in question.

Sam.

To say things had been strained since the forth of July would pretty much be the hugest understatement ever made. She avoided him for the first three weeks. Every time he entered a room, she'd leave it. She pretended like he didn't exist at all, look right through him if he managed to catch her eye. He had given up all hope when one day she just appeared out of thin air and started up a conversation like the last three weeks hadn't happened; like that kiss never occurred. He didn't know how to react to her sudden acknowledgement of him again. Overly paranoid of doing or saying the wrong thing, he just sort of went with it. And that's how it's been up until this point. That kiss, the one dripping with vodka, and sour apples, and _Sam_ had never happened and as much as he wanted to talk about it and everything that came along with it, he didn't because he knew her. He knew her better than she thought he did. He wasn't going to ruin whatever she wanted to call this game.

"Benson."

"Puckett." He answered back.

Her eyes flashed to the cup in his hand for a second before her attention returned to his face. "Black?"

"Decaf."

"Wuss." She snorted.

Sam moved from behind his chair, over towards the couch across from him. She was wearing her favorite _We Set Fire!_ tee shirt, the white one that fit smug across her chest **(**not that he ever noticed or anything**)** and a pair of ripped jeans. Ripped due to years of abuse, Sam always said she was above buying the pre-distressed kind. He watched as the blonde threw herself carelessly onto the cushions, instantly finding a comfortable lounging position. She rested in the crook between the couch's arm and back, one low-cut red converse pushing against the cushion's soft material while the other cemented itself against the floor.

"So," She started, watching him intently. "Tell me your life story, kid."

"Don't call me _kid._"

"Don't give me _lip._" She responded instantly.

He arched a brow. "Don't give me reason too."

"Keep it up, Fredward. I'm not even going to feel a little bad about punching you in the head."

He just grinned slightly, closing the book in his lap. "This is what I'm up to. Coffee, book, quiet."

"How very boring of you." She noted with more jesting than malice.

"Yeah, thanks. What about you then? How have you been spending your day off?"

Sam shrugs somewhat, leaning back a little further. He got distracted by the way she started to play with a ring **(**he's not sure where it's from, just that she's always had it**) **on one of her index fingers. After a bit, her voice cut through the air. "Today's been a good day. Whooped the chiz out of Gibby in video games earlier because he had the gull to challenge the master. Hung out with Carls for a bit until her and Mark really turned up the puke factor and I had to bail. Just been wandering the city since then."

"Causing general chaos?" He asked, knowing the answer.

Her grin said it all.

"Shouldn't you be in a temple, praying or something?" Freddie tilted his head, deciding to provoke her a little. "Isn't that what your people do on Yom Kippur?"

"Shouldn't you be in a coffee shop, pretentiously drinking coffee and reading novels- oh wait, nevermind." She answered back, causing both of them to chuckle a little because of how familiar their interactions have become.

"We both know why I'm here, why are you?"

Her grinned widened and she puffed out her cheeks comically for a second before speaking. "I was on my way somewhere and I passed by the window. I stopped and thought to myself," She continued on in a sing-song voice. "_How much is that nublet in the window, the one with the dumb, dumb haircut. How much-_"

"Where were you going?" He interrupted her while rolling his eyes.

"Huh?"

"Where where you going?" He asked again. "You said you were on your way somewhere."

"Oh, it's actually got something to do with Yom Kippur, part of my celebration." She pushed out of the crook she had been leaning in, getting to her feet. "You wanna come?"

He fixed her with a questioning look.

"It's safe." She reassured him, inspiring little reassurance as he took the hand she offered and pulled himself up.

* * *

As the two of them exited the butcher's shop, Freddie watched in mild disgust when Sam took another bite from the stick of ham **(**he was at first horrified that they made giant sticks of ham, but later found out they actually don't, it was just a customized thing for Sam for being their best customer**)**.

"You're like the worst Jewish person ever."

Sam swallowed, looking at Freddie as they moved along the sidewalk. "Shut up, Benson. You don't even know anything about my people and being a Jew."

"Sam." He started in his know-it-all voice. "Which one of us reads books here? I probably know more about your people than you do."

"Nub."

"Lay-about."

"Dork." The blonde took another bite of ham.

"Uncouth meat eater."

She smirked while chewing. "Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, you're only proving my point."

Sam opened her mouth wide, showing him the chewed up ham bits still on her tongue and causing the brunette boy to groan out, wincing a bit before steeling his eyes in front of him. Her laugh was loud, just like everything else about her. It was nice though. He always enjoyed making her laugh, even if it was usually at his expense. The last two months or so, Freddie had been doing a lot of thinking her, about him and her. What she means to him, what they are to one and other. Mostly he's been thinking about what happened that fourth of July and how badly he's wanted to kiss her ever since then.

He doesn't understand the urges, only that he has them. He supposed there was merit to the theory that opposites attracted but the two of them were at extremes, as far away as you could get and he just didn't see it working. That didn't stop him from replaying their **(**he wouldn't call it drunken but maybe buzzed**)** kiss over and over again in his head. It was torturing himself for no reason considering Sam maybe it clear through her actions that it would never happen again. That it hadn't even happened in the first place and that should have been enough to wipe the memory from his head but it wasn't. It just wasn't.

"- are you even listening to me, dorkface?"

He stopped walking and shook his head, trying to get the cobwebs out. "Yes."

"Whatda I just say then?" She asked, stopping a few steps in front of him and turning around.

"You just said _'Whatda I just say then?_"

Sam watched him with a calculating stare before one corner of her lips turned upwards. "Clearly mama is a bad influence on you."

Standing there watching her, something shifted inside of him and before he could stop himself, words were tumbling out.

"Hey, Sam. Do you think we could tal-"

"Here, hold this." The blonde girl interrupted him, as if she knew what he was about to ask. Sam handed Freddie her stick of ham before moving behind him. He tried to turn around but her hands on either side of his shoulders kept him facing the other direction. Five seconds later, she jumped on his back, causing him to stumble a step forward before gaining his balance. She ripped her ham out of his hand as she continued. "There, alright, let's go."

"What are you doing?" He asked, hands supporting her legs despite himself.

"I'm tired of walking. Been walking all day."

"So?" He asked.

"So now you gotta carry me." She said as if he was slow in the head.

"Sam, my car is just around the corner."

She nodded. "Yeah, so you better get moving if you want me off your back."

Freddie said nothing for a moment before sighing, deciding now wasn't the time to bring up the kiss. He started walking again, muttering. "If it were only so easy, would have done it years ago."

In retribution to his comment, she smacked him lightly against the cheek with her stick of ham.

"Sam! Come on, that's gross."


	7. Halloween

**Disclaimer: **I don't own iCarly. Now you know and knowing is half the battle.

**A/N: **I know you guys didn't expect me back so soon. To be honest, I didn't plan on being back so soon either but my power went out yesterday and instead of banging my head against the wall in boredom like I usually do, I decided to write out this chapter in my notebook while listening to my ipod. So this chapter is bought to you by the songs _"Fever Moon" _by Kevin Devine and _"Rootless Tree" _by Damien Rice which were on repeat.

Get ready for some angst, by the by- it was bound to happen.

Also, I wanna say thank you to anyone who left a review. Just reading this story means a lot to me but it's always nice to get reviews and read what people think, they make me warm and fuzzy inside so thanks for that. That's the end of this long author's note. Sorry.

/

**Holiday Spirit**

**Chapter Seven - Halloween**

It's Halloween and the party is at Kaya Lawrence's house.

Freddie was forcing his way through the horde of teenagers gathered in the living room, no real destination or anything. The suit he wore was entirely too tight- to the point that it had cut off circulation in both of his legs and for the last thirty minutes, the brunette had been walking around the party on pins and needles. He was currently dressed as the hero, Duke Landflyer, from the Galaxy Wars movies and for the most part, he didn't look so bad. The only thing he was missing with the beard. The brunette had tried to grow out some facial over the last two weeks just for this occasion but it was widely agreed upon that it just wasn't a look he could pull off which is why he had finally shaven yesterday **(**that and for the fact Sam had attacked him with an electric shaver when he wasn't paying attention and took off half the hair on his upper lip anyway**)**.

He made it to the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, and turned around to look back into the former room. Russet eyes searched the crowd for two certain people. Carly had come as Little Red Riding Hood, and her date Josh **(**Mark's best friend- don't ask**) **was the Big Bad Wolf. They looked cute together though Freddie tried to not think too hard on that. Sam decided to come as Buffy the Vampire Slayer because she was tired of everyone's obsession with vampires and she was going to _clean house _which they were worried about at first but she hasn't tried to stake any kids dressed like Edward Cullen so no problems yet. Her outfit was hardly modest with the short top and leather pants. He secretly figured it was really just an excuse to wear her combat boots. She looked good though. She always did.

Speaking of.

"Here, drink this."

He felt the blonde slide up behind him, resting her chin on one of his shoulders while draping an arm holding a drink over the other. Sam Puckett, the queen of mixed signals. It must really be her goal in life to leave him as confused as possible. She kisses him and runs away. Ignores the hell out of him for almost a month and then pretends nothing ever happened while being progressively more touchy feely as time goes on. She's always leaning on him, like always. In class, and at Carly's, and when they all go out to grab food. It was really starting to mess with his head and do some serious damage. It's not fair.

He looked to the drink in front of him and responded with a deadpanned: "Not a chance."

"Come on, it'll put hair on that baby bare chest of yours." She stated matter-of-factly.

"You don't know anything about my chest."

"That's true." She started before letting her free hand that had been at her side slowly snake around and up his chest. "Wanna let me collect some info?"

"How much have you had to drink?" He stayed deathly still, not daring to move a muscle while she kept her hand over his heart.

"It was a joke, Benson." She paused, flicking him in the nose before removing herself from his back and letting him turn around to face her. "No one wants to touch your- well, your anything."

He let out a silent breath of relief before scowling. "You get funnier every day, Sam."

She just nodded in agreement. "I know, now drink it."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because the last drink I accepted from you on blind faith was probably the worst lemonade ever made." Freddie crossed his arms over his chest, daring her to argue otherwise. Which of course she did.

"That's hardly my fault."

"You poured a pound of salt into it, Sam."

"I misread the label on the bag. You know how it goes. Me not so good with the words." She shrugged, trying to look innocent but failing horribly.

Freddie gave her one hard look before letting out an goaded sigh and taking the drink from her hand. His stomach did a flip when she grinned **(**whether it was due to the new feelings he might or might not be having for the girl, or if it was just the usual fear of what occurs when Sam grins, he's not sure**)**. The brunette took a sip and his face instantly contorted in disgust.

"This is like eighty-nine percent alcohol."

"It's good, right?" She said in amusement.

"I think I'm already drunk." He said smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in attempts to wipe the taste away.

"Uh oh, better get you a barf bucket."

"I'm not gonna barf. I didn't barf the last time we drank. Which was a good thing because of what happened." He said without thought but then the realization of what he just mentioned hit him like a ton of bricks. You know those moments where everything all of a sudden enters slow motion and all noise just gets put on mute. Yeah, happening right now. He looked over at the blonde beauty who didn't seem so amused anymore. She didn't seem quite so anything at the moment, her eyes had clouded over and her expression was unreadable. He had to say something, and quick. "Sam-"

"Gonna go find Carls, I'll catch you later." She interrupted him, not even giving him a spare glance as she shoved past him into the living room and into the crowd.

* * *

Freddie sat at the kitchen table, listening to Gibby tell him about something that had happened earlier in the day but the brunette wasn't really paying attention, thoughts still on Sam and his slip up. Yeah, he wanted to talk about what had happened and she hadn't given him a chance up to this point but he didn't want to just put it out there like that. He had been hoping to slowly ease into it but that was thrown out the window now. She'd probably go back to ignoring him like she had done before.

Fun.

He shook his head dismissively at the thought, trying to focus on Gibby who was apparently done talking now and taking a big gulp of whatever he was drinking. Freddie leaned back in his seat, looking the other boy up and down who was just dressed in a pair of jeans and sunglasses, no shirt.

"I gotta ask, who exactly are you suppose to be dressed up as?

Gibby grinned for a moment before his face changed into a very serious expression, lips pouted out. He stood up and flexed a bit, his voice affected by a New Jersey accent. "I'm Gibby, the Situation."

"You watch the Jersey Shore?" Freddie asked dubiously.

"I watch any show that advocates being shirtless." Gibby nodded.

"That… makes sense, actually."

"Who are you suppose to be?"

"Duke Landflyer." He pulled at his sleeves, getting rid of a wrinkle or two.

"Doesn't he have a beard?"

"Yeah."

"Is that why there's a picture of you with half a mustache on Sam's Myface page?" Gibby's brows were arched in enjoyment.

Freddie sighed, knowing he shouldn't be surprised.

* * *

Another hour later and the party is still going at full steam with no signs of slowing down. Freddie had seen Sam around a coupe of times but whenever he managed to get close, she'd always disappear again. Girl might really be part ninja. Anyway, right now Freddie was leaning against one of the living room walls, Wendy next to him, her smooth hand running up and down his arm the entire time they had been talking.

"I really like your costume, Freddie."

He looked down at himself before back over to the redhead, grateful that someone appreciated his work. "Really? Thanks!"

"I'm glad you don't have a beard though, you look so much better with a smooth face." She noted, hand lifting and grazing one of his cheeks lightly.

"Uh, thanks."

"Hey." Wendy whispered as she leaned in close to him and needless to say, Freddie was starting to get a little uncomfortable right away. He could smell the alcohol on her breath and he knew from experience that was never a good thing.

"Yeah?" He answered with no small amount of apprehension.

"I've been thinking a lot about us."

He furrowed his brows. "About us how?"

"You know," She paused, hand still on his cheek while she pushed herself into his side. "How we were back then."

"Wendy."

Her voice was thick with emotion. "I miss it, I miss us."

"Listen, I think you've been drink-"

He never got to finish his statement on account of her lips being crushed into his own. Since she caught him mid word, his mouth was already open and she took full advantage of that, the spice of the rum she had been drinking rolling off her tongue onto his. Freddie wasn't sure how long they had kissed for but all of a sudden, he was violently ripped away from Wendy, being pulled across the room through the crowd. He looked over his shoulder at who was gripping the collar of his costume.

"Wha- ow! Sam, stop!"

She of course didn't listen in favor of yanking him step by step up the stairs and then continued to drag him down the hallway. He gave up fighting back and trying to get away and seconds later he was shoved into an upstairs bedroom. His heart was beating rapidly and he was more than a little frightened by the fact the blonde girl had locked the door. She turned around to face him, eyes narrowed.

The queen of mixed signals.

"You wanna tell me why you were doing what the hell you were doing?"

Freddie was rubbing the back of his neck, sore from being flung around like a rag doll. "Did you lose your freaking mind?"

"I asked you a question." She closed the distance between them in a flash, backing him against the wall. They were barely an inch apart. "Now answer it."

"What was what about?" He asked sincerely confused.

"Michaelson and you sucking face."

"Oh come on." Freddie shook his head. "We weren't sucking face."

"What do you call it then?" Her eyes were locked onto his and making him feel smaller and smaller by the second.

He cleared his throat. "I don't know. Look, she kissed me."

"Right, I believe that because why?"

"Because it's the truth. And why does it even matter." He steeled himself. "It's none of your business who I kiss."

Sam looked like she had just been slapped in the face. She took a step back. "Know what, you're right."

She turned around and went for the door but something snapped inside of Freddie and he bolted around her, slamming his body into the door and blocking her escape. He turned around slowly as she stalked over.

"Get out of my way, Benson."

"No. What is this all about?" He pleaded.

"Nothing." She avoided.

"Yeah, you dragged me up here over nothing?" He snorted. "Right, that's believable."

Sam took another step closer. "Get out of my way before I get you out of my way."

"No." He held his ground.

And she took another step.

"Now, Freddie."

"I said no."

She was flush against him now, in his face.

"Say it again. I fucking dare you." She snarled.

"No."

As soon as the word left his mouth, her lips were on his and it was just like he remembered. Hint of alcohol and fruit but mostly just searing passion pouring into him from her bite, and lick, and violent teeth clash. Her hands gripped at his jaw line, nails digging into his neck and drawling faint trails of blood. He felt spasms in his chest, a quick tightening and release every second they continued on. It's a minute later that she pulls away not even a centimeter, her lips still touching his lower one, her hot breath heating it up.

"I-I gotta go." She pushed away, hands falling to her sides balled up in fists.

"Not this time." His voice was raw and strained standing there. "You don't get to run away from this twice." She refused to meet his gaze and that in turn added more gasoline to the fire raging in the pit of his stomach. He was so sick of whatever this was between them. "You wanna be a coward and you wanna mess with my head, fine. Whatever. But I get to walk away from you this time." He spit out with venom. "It's my turn."

He pulled open the door and walked out without another word or look back.


	8. Thanksgiving

**Disclaimer: **I doubt I still need a disclaimer by chapter eight but here it is. So you know, iCarly isn't mine.

**A/N: **This marks two things. It marks the point where there are only two more chapters left and it marks the first time Carly has appeared in this story. Sorry Carls, I love ya` but you just weren't needed until now. Unbeta'd.

**Wildpromegraniiit **- To answer your concerns with my not mentioning Freddie's feelings for Carly, it's been intentional. I've dealt with that in two previous stories and felt like with this one, I didn't have to use it as a catalyst. On the show, Freddie and Carly have had their make out sessions and moved on from it for the most part. Freddie has attempted to see other girls even. So since this story is set a year or two after that, I'm just working on the assumption that he's moved on in terms of this story's personal canon.

/

**Chapter Eight - Thanksgiving**

It's been twenty five days since the last time he's spoken to Sam. He's pulling the same exact routine she did on him only a bit more inferior since he didn't have her skills on the subject of avoidance and general ninja-like things. He hadn't spent more than five minutes in the same room as her unless certain things like school called for it. The whole thing was actually pretty easy since Sam was making no attempts to talk to him, or fix anything which wasn't surprising because she was Sam Puckett- _Miss-I-don't-give-a-chiz _about anything or anyone but herself. There might have been a small spark of hope welling somewhere in his chest that first week but she proved status quo and it's long been snuffed out.

Freddie shook his head, sitting up straighter in his chair as his right hand reached for his computer mouse to continue to browse the internet to keep his thoughts off of a certain blonde haired bane of his existence. This was how he had been spending the last month. He was either holed up in his room on his computer or he was hanging out with Gibby at seemingly randomly chosen locations **(**really they were places he knew there was no chance of running into Sam**)**; places like salad bars and poetry readings. Gibby had become his provisional best friend since Sam basically lived at Carly's and though she tried spending equal amounts of time between him and Sam, it just never worked out in his favor.

He was about to turn on a video when there was a knock on his bedroom door.

"Come in." He called out, pushing away from his desk as the door opened and Carly stuck her head inside. A light grin tugged at one corner of his mouth, he hadn't seen her in a day or so. "Hey Carls."

"Hey, Happy Thanksgiving." She said while returning the smile, stepping fully into the room.

"Yeah, you too."

"What's up?" The brunette girl moved over to the foot of his bed and took a seat, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her kneecaps before making eye contact with him.

"Nothing much." He shrugged absently. "Hanging around while mom makes her version of Thanksgiving dinner."

"The same as last year?"

A rasp chuckle emitted deep in his throat. "You got it. Three vitamins to start off, six more for the main course and two more for desert. A lovely bowel cleansing shake to wash them all down."

"That's disgusting." Carly said, scrunching up her nose.

"That's Thanksgiving." He deadpanned before standing up, moving over to his bookshelf. "Anyway, what's up with you?"

"Waiting for Spencer to finish his version of Thanksgiving dinner."

"Everything on fire with a side of calling the take-out people?" He questioned, while grabbing his pearpod from the middle shelf and moving over to the bed, positioning himself against the headboard while his feet hung limp off the side right before where Carly was sitting. His eyes stuck to his best friend while popping in one of the earbuds to his headphones.

"Everything on fire with a side of calling the take-out people." She confirmed.

"Nice."

"Yeah." She started, suddenly hesitant. "Since you aren't really doing anything, you should come over while you're mom is cooki- uh, preparing the foo- things you'll be having."

Freddie arched a brow. "Whose over?"

"You know…" Carly's eyes wandered aimlessly over the room. "People."

"Is Sam over?"

"Yes." She finally squeaked out, looking back over to him.

"Can't, mom says we're on holiday lockdown." His voice took on a monotone quality as he popped in the other earbud.

"Oh come on!" She exclaimed, eyes widening when he started to turn the volume up on his pearpod. "Don't you turn up the music on me, Freddie Benson."

"I'm not coming over if she's there." He stated with finality.

"You're acting like a baby right now."

Freddie shrugged his shoulders, letting out a childish: "Wah."

"You're coming over whether you like it or not." Carly told him with narrowed eyes, standing up and moving to his side. Her soft, tiny hands gripped onto his bicep and gave a light tug with no results. After that she began to pull harder and harder until she was giving everything she had to no avail. Finally she gave up, punching him in the arm and muttering. "Stupid muscles."

Freddie couldn't help but grin. "I'll come over later, when she leaves."

"It's almost been a month, Freddie, how long are you going to keep this up?" Carly let out a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.

"College is in about, what?" He took on a thoughtful look. "Six or seven months?"

"She's hurting over this, you know."

"Negative." Freddie shook his head. "To hurt, one has to have feelings and since she only has the traits of **a**, a robot or **b**, a serial killer- one can only conclude she isn't hurting, especially over me."

"You're being a jerk." She told him with certainty.

He gave her an unreadable look. "I've earned it."

"Maybe." Carly relented slightly, deciding to change her approach. "But even if you don't think she's hurting over this, you better believe I am."

"You?"

"Yeah, me. My two best friends are in pain and I haven't been in the same room with the two of them at the same time in weeks. I miss how we were." She ended softly, looking at his floor instead of him.

It was another minute before Freddie answered in the same tone, pulling out his headphones. "So do I."

"You're really not coming over?" She asked, looking up with pursed lips.

"I… I can't. I'm sorry."

"Okay." She nodded dejectedly, moving to the door. He followed behind her to give her a hug. "I'll see you later?"

"Deal."

* * *

Freddie was on his way out of the kitchen when he heard the knock on his front door. He stood there, staring across the room and trying to place who the knock belonged too. After a few moments, measured steps took him over to the door. Timidly, he looked through the peephole to find Sam standing on the other side, looking an impossible mixture of anxious and bored. He stood there frozen to the spot, didn't even back away when she knocked again but this time with more force. When the door didn't open after that, he watched Sam roll her eyes and walk away, turning the corner.

"Who was that?"

The brunette boy turned to find his mom behind him, eerily close. "No one, some person had the wrong apartment I guess."

"Oh." She seemed to buy it, tilting her head somewhat to the side. "Do you want seconds on desert before I start cleaning things up? There are three more vitamins left."

"Oh no, I'm pretty full. I think I'm just going to go lay down for a little while."

"Alright. Remember, lay on your back- not your stomach."

He nodded mutely as he quickly cut through the living room and hallway and into his room. Closing the door behind him, he stood there looking around lost for a moment before taking the steps to his bed and just collapsing haphazardly against the soft confines. Freddie tucked his hands behind his head, eyes staring up at the blank surface of his ceiling. It wasn't easy anytime he saw Sam, always like a match to the gasoline in his stomach waiting to burn up and heat his skin. He had to fix himself, get rid of all these feelings. He had already spent years of his life pining over a girl, he wasn't about to do it again.

His attention was drawn to the window as he heard it being forcibly shoved open. It was a second later that Sam came pushing though.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" Freddie said with heat and shock, sitting up.

"You weren't going to open the door." She started while swinging her other leg into the room and sitting on the sill. "So I'm climbing through the damn window."

He watched her intently and she watched him right back. He was conflicted because he didn't want to see her but something in him jumped at the fact that she might actually be making an attempt at something for once. In the end, the superior emotion prevailed.

"Leave."

She shook her head dismissively, pushing off the window sill and taking a step or two into the room. "Let's have a chat."

"I don't wan to have a chat, Sam." He stated resentfully.

"Yeah, I'm getting that vibe. What's wrong, one of those vitamins go down the wrong tube?" When his eyes narrowed, she corrected herself. "Sorry, no mom jokes, okay? Let's just… talk or some chiz."

"Nothing to say." Freddie looked down at his lap.

"Look, what do you want from me, Benson? We kissed a few times, it happened. It doesn't mean things have to change." She tried to toss our the words with a casual nonchalance but it wasn't her best effort, he could tell.

"That's exactly what it means!" He looked back up at her. "We can't just stay the same, things have to change."

"So what, you wanna be my boyfriend now or something? That's not the kind of girl I am." She scoffed, cocking her hip out to prove a point.

"I didn't say anything about dating you. I'm just sick and tired of you running away every time we kiss."

She shrugged with a small grin. "It's frightening to be that close to your mug."

"You kissed me." He stated drolly, rolling his eyes.

"I was drunk?" She offered back.

He held her stare until he couldn't anymore, letting his russet eyes hold steady to his computer off to the right behind her instead. "Go away, Sam."

She actually had the nerve to look some version of stricken at his words from what he could see out of his peripherals. What did she expect? To just come in here and joke herself out of trouble? For things to just go back to how they were? He already told her that things had to change, and he meant it. Whether or not it meant that they'd never speak again.

"Maybe I like kissing you or something." She said quietly after a long moment and he quickly locked eyes with her, brows raised in question and surprise causing her to continue with a faint growl. "Shut your face."

"I didn't say anything." He defended himself.

"I like kissing you but it just wouldn't work. I'm not that kind of girl, I'm not Michaelson."

"Who said you had to be Wendy?" He asked, unable to keep the astonishment from his voice.

"It's the type of chick you go for." Sam nodded in agreement with herself. "Carly, Wendy- you know, wholesome with good values."

"I don't have a type."

She fixed him with a incredulous look. "You most definitely have a type."

"Well what if I want my type to be you." Right as he said it, he could see her eyes shoot to the door and then the window. "See! I saw your eyes, anytime we take a step forward, you try to make a break for it."

"I'm sorry okay, this is hard for me!" She said exasperatedly, throwing her arms up in the air. "I don't do _this_."

"What, be honest and open about your feelings?" Freddie asked.

"No, want to molest dorks." She answered completely serious.

He couldn't help it, it was so inappropriate for the moment and so very _her_ that he had to laugh. She narrowed her eyes for a second before shrugging it off.

"Do you want to go back to before?" He prompted, unsure if he really wanted to put that option back out there after swearing to himself he wouldn't.

She studied him closely before his saving grace fell out past her lips. "No."

"Maybe we could take it slow." His chest tightened in the slightest, stomach all of a sudden filled with butterflies that flapped violently, ones he couldn't control. "No commitment, just us being us."

"No labels?" She asked warily.

Freddie nodded. "I will fight my natural instinct to label."

"Suppose that could work or whatever." She said absently, picking at the paint on her nails while she stood there. After shifting her weight a few times, she seemed to come to a decision and slowly made her way over to him. He was about to say something but he was quickly at a loss for words when she sat down in his lap, hands gripping at his shoulders and thigh against thigh. No one pulled away this time when their lips met and entered a battle of dominance that Freddie knew he had no chance of winning. They continued on like this for a few minutes before backing away for gulps of oxygen.

"I thought," He began, inhaling deeply. "we wanted to take it slow."

She grinned a very Sam Puckett grin at him; cat-like right before leaning in and kissing him again, real long and slow, dragging her teeth against his bottom lip, adding a slight lick before barely pulling away.

"How about that? Slow enough for ya`?"


	9. Christmas

**Disclaimer: **I don't own iCarly. I promise fully and completely.

**A/N: **One more to go, New Years Eve redux. I said I would finish this and look, actually holding up my end of the deal and everything. I'm even doing it in a somewhat timely manner. Crazy right? Unbeta'd, typos will happen because I hate reading over my writing.

So it's canon now that Sam isn't Jewish, but guess what? My story, my canon so jewish she stays.

/

**Chapter Nine - Christmas Eve **

Freddie had somehow lost her again.

His pace was slow as he walked down yet another pathway, Christmas trees lining both sides and making it seem as if they went on forever. Two hours ago, he actually thought they might finally have an uneventful and calm Christmas Eve but that foolish notion was stomped out of existence when Spencer's homemade ornaments caught the tree on fire and all the commotion caused his girlfriend Sasha to burn the turkey. So while Carly, Spencer, and Sasha went about picking up some to-go food from the Chinese place down the street; Freddie and Sam were on a hunt for the perfect replacement tree. Every place they went to was either closed or filled with _weak and Benson inspired saplings_ according to Sam. This was the last place they could find, basically a half an hour away.

They- meaning Sam and him, had been doing exceptionally well _being together_. More so than he ever thought possible. By not trying to label and set rules, Sam didn't feel trapped so she wasn't trying to constantly run away. They were still Sam and Freddie but now they made out a lot more with hints of groping **(**Sam doesn't know how to keep her hands to herself, always calling him '_prude boy' _whenever he stops her**)**. It's been less than a month really but still, it was a good sign that they had managed to move forward at their own relaxed pace.

Chilled hands found a home in the depths of his coat pockets, nose tinted red from the breeze and russet eyes searching for any sign of his blonde girlfriend **(**this was a word he only uses in his head**)**. She had disappeared about fifteen minutes ago saying she had to use the bathroom and now he had no idea where she went. Freddie was about to turn a corner when a noise emitted behind him; a sort of rustling and it caused the brunette to stop in his tracks, standing perfectly still for a moment.

"Sam, is that you?"

When the only answer was more rustling, he slowly turned back around, eyes probing for where the noise was coming from. His steps were careful, moving towards two trees where he thought he had seen some branches shaking slightly. He was about five inches away when all of a sudden, Sam popped through the brush, yelling '_high yaa!_' which blended seamlessly with Freddie's very unmanly scream right before he fell backwards against the cold earth, Sam landing comfortably on top of him.

"You know after puberty, I figured you'd stop screaming like a girl. Good to know some things don't change." She said with a wicked grin, propping herself up on her palms and looking down at Freddie with her blonde curls hanging like curtains.

He frowned hard, his defense pathetic. "I don't scream like a girl."

"Benson, let's be honest with ourselves here." She started and before she continued, he knew a insult was on her tongue. "You shriek like a white chick in a bad horror movie."

"Shut up."

"Make me." She countered instantly.

And at this point, they stared at one and other. She was grinning at him, brows arched in a dare and his mouth was opened slightly, trying to steel himself against the smile threatening to break free. After a few seconds, he gave in like always and his fingers curled gently around the back of her neck, bringing her face down to his. When their lips touched, the warm, familiar and oh so clichéd feeling was birthed in his stomach and maybe it was the frost and scent of pine in the air but his skin was tingling overly so.

His voice was low when they broke the kiss, her hot breath heating his bottom lip. "I was just caught off guard by some tiny lunatic jumping out of a tree and attacking me."

"They're offering karate lessons at the rec center on Sundays." She informed him with practiced nonchalance. "The beginner classes are full of eight and nine year olds- that's your speed right? You'll work your way up in no time, boytoy."

"You're not funny."

"I might be the funniest person you'll ever know." She said with no doubts, the two of them still on the ground, her on top of him.

"Yeah, yeah." Freddie rolled his eyes, one hand still on the back of her neck and the other with fingertips in the dirt. "How about you let me up? We gotta pick a tree to replace the one Spencer just burned down and we gotta get it back to Carly's before this place closes and Christmas is over."

The look in her eyes said it better than the sugar in his voice. "Let you up? You know I like you best on your back."

"Sam, that's not appropriate for tree shopping." He tried to reprimand her.

"Yeah, so- I'm not appropriate _anywhere_."

Freddie let out a ragged sigh, not wanting to show how endearing he found her whole routine even though he assumed she secretly knew. "I'll make you egg-nog the rest of the night and tomorrow if you let me up and we can finish looking for a tree."

"Deal." She said after a pause, getting to her feet easy and offering him a hand to help pull him up. "I've had a tree picked up since we got here."

"But we've been here for almost forty minutes now." He said with confusion evident on his face, now standing up and dusting off his jeans.

"Yeah?"

"Sam." He fixed her with a look. "Why didn't you say something when we got here?"

"I did. I pointed to that one tree and said '_That tree isn't the most crappy tree I've ever seen_'." When he said nothing in response, Sam just looked at him like he was the mentally unstable one out of the duo. "What?"

"Let's just go buy the freakin` tree." He said, shaking his head and beginning down the pathway.

"You don't gotta get pissy."

They walked in silence for a minute or two side by side before Sam started slowing down and went to make her move. Freddie turned sideways before she could, his back against a tree.

"No. No piggy back rides."

"Awh come on, dude." The blonde girl groaned out, pouting. "I'm tired of walking."

"Too bad." He shrugged, standing his ground.

"I hate you."

They stared at one and other for only a moment before she acted, catching him off-guard and promptly pushing him backwards into the trees, watching Freddie fall through the braches and hit the ground with a thud. He looked up at her with shock even though he should have seen it coming.

"Don't act indignant. You know the consequences of not giving me what I want." She stated matter-of-factly while offering her hand. When he just kept staring at her, she rolled her eyes. "Get up, Benson, you're wasting my time. I got trees to buy, Chinese food to eat."

His scowl was heavy when he took her hand and let her pull him up.

"Does mama need to kiss it and make it better?" She asked with a smirk, body flush against his, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

His muscles tensed up and his lips were in a thin line and it looked like they were about to get into a fight but then his resolve crumbled away and a smile started to shape his lips. The second that happened, Sam pushed him into the trees again, laughing as he shouted.

"Sam!"

* * *

Freddie had this thing where he never really remembers his dreams. It started when he was eight or so and has sort of stuck with him since then. So when his phone started violently vibrating against the wood of his bedside table, he was only left with a few fleeting glimpses of blonde hair and a beach somewhere. His hand moved around blindly at his side, searching for the phone, finding it moments later. The screen was blinding when he hit the button to open the text message and he had to squint his eyes to adjust and keep things in focus.

'_come open the door benson'_

He laid there a moment, looking to the clock which read 3:23am and the thought to text her back asking '_why_' occurred to him but quickly floated away, best to just do what she says. His movements were sluggish when he shoved the covers aside and bare feet met plush carpet, moving to his dresser to grab a plain white tee shirt from the middle drawer. He pulled the shirt over his head. Stopping in front of the mirror, Freddie held his phone in one hand because his pajama pants didn't have pockets and he used his other one to try and mat down some of rogue locks of hair that stuck up in ever which way possible. Feeling his phone vibrate, he paused to check the message.

'_stop taking ur sweet ass time'_

Shaking his head dismissively with a light smile, he took the steps to leave his room and moved through the hallway, very careful not to make even the slightest noise. When he got to the front door, he gradually turned the deadbolt to ensure it made no sound before unhooking the siding lock and pulling the door open to revel a lithe blonde girl standing in the hallway holding a bag in one hand, looking tired and wide awake in the same breath. She's wearing her usual sleeping gear; black tank top and flannel pajama shorts. The fact that her hair is as wild as his made Freddie smile that much more.

Sam stared him down for a moment with a '_what's with the dopey smile' _look before shrugging it off and pushing past him into the apartment. He followed her through the living room and hallway, quietly closing the door to his bedroom and turning around to find the blonde jumping into his bed. Getting comfortable, she held out the bag in her hand.

"Merry Christmas, nub."

"Thanks." He said warmly, moving over and taking the bag. "I have your Hanukkah present on the shel-"

"Don't worry about it, open yours first." She interrupted, watching him intently.

Freddie nodded, following her directions and opening the bag. The first thing he pulled out was a card without an envelope. With the pink glitter and picture of a unicorn on the front of it, he's not surprised she got him a girl card. Opening it up, he read aloud:

"_Congratulations, Freddie Benson, you get the honor of writing Sam Puckett's essay that is due the first day back at school_." A rasp chuckle emitted from his throat. "Thanks, Sam."

"That's just the joke gift… kind of." She finished seriously before continuing. "Look in the bag."

He took a step backward, placing the card on his desktop before digging further into the bag and pulling out a hard plastic package. Inside of the plastic was a Galaxy Wars pearpod skin, one of the more high end ones. Out of his peripheral, he could see Sam laying there looking mostly casual but he thinks if he were to look hard enough, he'd see a hint of nervousness somewhere in her expression or body language.

"This is really great, Sam." He said earnestly, meaning it.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He confirmed before moving to his bookshelf and grabbing the impeccably wrapped box, moving back towards the bed to hand it over to the blonde. "This is for you."

In record time she murdered the wrapping paper viciously and without mercy. Pulling off the top of the box to revel a bright yellow '_We Set Fires' _hoodie. She held it in the air, inspecting the article of clothing from every angle before shooting Freddie a grin.

"Very cool, Benson."

He returned her grin, standing in the middle of his room, arms hanging lifelessly at his side. "Glad you like it because just to let you know, I'm never going to another one of their shows ever again."

"We'll see about that." She commented while pulling the hoodie over her head. It's a little big but he remembered her saying she liked them that way.

"I refuse."

"It's better the second time." Her tone isn't convincing.

"No." He shook his head.

"We'll get you a helmet."

Freddie rolled his eyes at her Carney smirk. "Not happening."

They stared at one and other for who knows how long before she shifted over a few inches in the bed. "C'mere, let me see if I can change your mind."

He followed orders like always and closed the distance between them, sliding in next to her and she was quick to react like always. Her small body pressed into his side, her legs finding his and tangling all limbs together. The kisses are gentler than usual, less needy and fire filled and he idly wondered if this was her way of showing progression, being so unable to vocalize it. His one free hand ran through her hair once or twice before it left, going to find her hand on it's own accord and they interlock fingers. Every movement and kiss was lingering.

When they broke apart, he pulled her closer to him and she gave slight resistance but it felt more for show than anything else. It didn't take long for her to place her head against his chest.

"I should get back to Carls, or whatever." Her voice cut through the lull, quiet and more of an afterthought.

"Stay."

"You really want your mom to find a girl, much less _me_ in your bed?" She tilted her head somewhat, looking up at him. "That's a Christmas gift that might make her stroke out, you know."

"I'll set my alarm to go off an hour before she gets up." He had already let go of her hand and reached over for his clock before he was done talking. A few buttons pressed, a switch moved to the right, and everything was set.

She watched him with a searching look before resting her head back against his chest.

"Your funeral."


	10. New Years Eve Redux

**Disclaimer: **Last time you'll have to see this disclaimer, so hey, I don't own iCarly.

**A/N: **The end, it finally arrives. I actually wrote this the same day I wrote chapter nine and I was going to wait awhile before putting it up but eh, you've guys have waited long enough for this fic to finally close out. Feels good. Think I'm just going to make _No Surprises_ a one-shot. Not sure I'll write for the fandom again but I'm not ruling it out or anything. I really want to honestly thank anyone who has reviewed, or favorite'd, or even just read it because that's kind of the point and all. Done wasting your time, thanks for sticking with me.

/

**Chapter 10 - New Years Eve Redux**

He navigated the sea of bodies, shifting in and out through layers of conversation and areas of personal space. The room was warm, just under stiflingly from the collective body heat of twenty or so teenagers and the dance music blasting from mounted speakers only had the temperature rising. The party was going at full speed currently, at Kaya Lawrence's house again. All bad memories get washed away because he entered the house an hour earlier under very different circumstances then when he did on Halloween. Then he was a mess; unsure of where he stood with Sam and paranoid that everything was about to fall apart **(**which it kind of did**)**. Now he- well he was still unsure of where he stood with Sam but it didn't seem to matter as much; not in the moments she let him hold her or the times when things got a little out of control and a little PG-13.

Freddie held a drink firmly in his hand, in front of him and raised in the air just over the crowd while he moved through the main entryway of the house and into the living room, eyes searching for a certain blonde firecracker. It didn't take long to find her, near the center of the room absently swaying to the music while talking to a brunette girl with bright red highlights in her hair that was easily identifiable as Kaya Lawrence. It was only seconds later when he reached the two girls, offering the drink in his hand over to Sam while giving Kaya a nod.

"Just how you like it." The brunette boy took his place next to the familiar blonde.

Sam lifts the drink to her nose and sniffs. "Ninety-five percent rum?"

"Coke on the rocks, hold the alcohol." He informed with a grin.

"That's not what I wanted, Benson." Sam didn't look amused as she stood there, holding the drink by the brim at her waist.

Freddie just shrugged while Kaya looked a mixture of bored and amused. "Yeah but what's what you're getting."

"You're fired." Sam said offhandedly before lifting the drink and taking a sip from the cup.

He arched a brow in question. "Fired from what?"

"I don't know, you're just fired."

"Right, I'm going to give you two some privacy." Kaya finally injected.

"Oh, you don't have to, we were just-" Freddie started but was interrupted.

"Getting started. I don't have forty minutes to stand here and listen to banter- I've got to mingle, make sure nobody's naked or dead upstairs. You wouldn't believe the stains people leave on these carpets, absolutely no class. Price I pay for having social status." Kaya let out a faint sigh, placing a hand on Sam's arm. "I'll talk to you later, Puckett." She looked over to Freddie for a moment before back to Sam, her grin lofty. "Have fun."

And then it was just the two of them again. Well, the two of them in the middle of a crowd of people anyway. Sam was still swaying, randomly taking sips from the plastic cup in her hand and like always when Freddie was unsure or out of place, his hands went straight to his pockets and russet eyes shifted around the room. The moment wasn't entirely uncomfortable but he felt the need to break it and move on. His attention returned to Sam, leaning over slightly so she could hear him better.

"Where's Carly?"

"She left with what's his face to check out Amy Colden's party." Sam said while nodding to the front door like that explained everything.

"_What's his face_?" He echoed.

"Yeah."

Freddie furrowed his brows, looking down to the ground for a second before back up at Sam. "Let me get this straight, you let our best friend just leave with some guy you don't even know the name of?"

"Calm down, the kid is on the level." The blonde rolled her eyes. "He's into literature or something; harmless. You could probably beat him up and that's really saying something."

"Must you take every shot you can at my masculinity?"

"What masculinity?" She smirked.

"I don't have to stand for this." Freddie announced resentfully, turning to act as if he was really going to walk away even though they both knew he never would.

"Oh yes you do."

Sam's tiny hand gripped his arm and turned him back around with ease before she crashed against his front, arms wrapping around his waist. Needless to say, Freddie was a little caught off guard but he did his best to keep it from showing. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders but very cautiously.

"This is touching in public. You do realize that." He was shooting for sarcastic but was sure it just came out uncertain.

"No," Sam said into his chest, hands reaching down and giving his butt a firm squeeze. "this is touching in public."

"Sam!" Freddie hissed out, scandalized and looking around as such.

"What?" She answered back in amusement.

He pulled back slightly, enough to search Sam's face before making his claim. "You've been drinking."

"Maybe." She shrugged with a grin that said '_yes_'.

"When? I was only gone like two minutes."

"That's one minute and fifty-five seconds more than I needed." Sam untangled herself from Freddie but held onto his hand very loosely. "It was like two drinks, don't freak."

"I'm not freaking." He insisted.

"Yeah, I believe that." She responded, not at all convinced.

"You should."

"I don't but that's okay, whatever makes you sleep better at night." She grinned before looking around them and scrunching up her nose slightly. "Eh, let's get out of here."

"You want to leave?" He asked a bit confused.

"Yeah. If a party isn't hopping enough to keep Carly in attendance, I should have been gone a long time ago."

Sam pulled him through the crowd, still holding onto his hand but much tighter now in efforts not to lose him **(**which is ironic considering that was her intention for so long during the course of their friendship**)**. The moment they shoved through the front door and outside, the noise level was the most staggering difference; it went from a booming roar to a filtered static, low and humming. The duo walked through the finely manicured grass until they arrived on the street. Their pace was dawdling, now side by side but still connected at the hands, something Freddie refused to acknowledge because the second he pointed it out, she'd let go and that's the hardest thing about being with the blonde girl; knowing how easily it is for her to simply _let go_.

The streets were empty, only lit up by strategically placed streetlamps and the mute glow from house windows. They moved in a comfortable silence, and his eyes explored the landscape in front of them, cement leading towards vague outlines on the horizon. He felt good in the moment, maybe better than he had in all the years leading up to this point, all the moments that made up his life. He had freedom at home. Not a lot but more than he ever thought possible. He opportunities to basically go to any school he wanted for any degree there was to be offered. He had a girl **(**she'd insist that she had him if asked, claiming he was another piece of property for her portfolio**)** that despite how hard he tried and how much resistance he put up, he cared very muchfor . There wasn't a lot more he could ask for.

"What's with the dopey introspective look?" Sam's voice cut through the stillness, looking over at him with the usual uninterested yet involved stare.

"Just thinking that it's been a crazy year." He offered a bit vaguely before continuing. "Crazy but good."

The blonde seemed to think it over for a moment. "It's been alright."

"Anything you'd change?"

"Lot of chiz I'd change if I could." He guessed it showed in his face how her words affected him because she rolled her eyes, pulling the arm with the hand she was holding onto around her shoulders and molding carelessly into his side. "Nothing major though."

"Cool." He said, failing to be nonchalant about the matter.

"Yeah, I am." She agreed before looking up at him with squinted eyes. "You still need a lot of work though."

Freddie only laughed. "Uh huh, what do you wanna do tomorrow?"

"Dunno, take it as it comes."

A block and a half later, the shapes in the distance had finally found clarity. A slide, swing set, seesaw and dome shaped jungle gym all composed of what looked like metal and coated in bright paint. Reds, oranges, and yellows. As if on the same wavelength, the two continued straight and towards the neighborhood playground, pushing through the gate and onto the woodchips. When she let go of his hand and moved out of his side to inspect the seesaw, his hands found his jacket pockets, the chill in the air becoming more and more biting as the minutes ticked away.

Sam moved to the side of the seesaw touching the ground, placing her converse clad foot on the seat. "Seesaw with me, Benson?"

"Never again." He stated instantly with more conviction than you would think possible.

"Wussbag."

Freddie shrugged his shoulders. "As long as it means never going through that amount of pain again, I'm fine with that."

"It was an accident." She claimed idly.

"No, it wasn't."

"I said I was sorry." She insisted half-heartedly.

"No, you didn't."

"I meant to?" She lied badly.

"Debatable."

The two of them stood there in a stalemate, a few feet between them. Sam tilted her head, lips pursed together before a light grin reshaped them.

"You ready for that New Years kiss?" She asked, slowly starting to cut the distance away with small, leisure steps.

"It's only eleven." Freddie stated, trying to figure out what she was getting at.

"Ten, nine, eight." The blonde started to count down, still moving forwards, locking eyes with his.

"What are you playing at, Sam?"

She only grinned wider. "Seven, six, five."

"Sam?"

"Four, three, two, one." When Sam finally reached him, she pressed flush against the front of his body. Her arms were hanging at her sides and her hands found his that had come fumbling out of his pockets instantly, intertwining fingers. They stared at one and other, as they had become accustomed to doing right before certain things happened. The blonde rose on her tip-toes, tilting her head to the side and placing a understated kiss to his cheek before whispering in his ear. "Hint of things to come. You gotta wait till midnight though." She paused. "And meet me at the top of the jungle gym for the real thing."

That's when she took off running towards the jungle gym.

And he followed like always.


End file.
